


Writing to Reach You

by Himi (greighish)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-05-16 11:06:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5826178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greighish/pseuds/Himi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a tin under his bed is where Kise stores the letters that he's received and kept over the years. And every June, the two stacks inside increase by one. And this year and the next should be no different, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Been Around the World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [makuramotou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/makuramotou/gifts).



> I've never written a fic for someone before, so this is all a little weird, but makuramotou put it in my head to write this, so this is for them. (And a little for me since I can't unsee the possibility of this pairing after what I wrote in my other fic.)

## Tadaima

Kise closed his flat door behind him and shut out the world. He placed his bag on top of the shoe cabinet, leaned against the closed door, and sighed. It was good to be home. His lungs filled to capacity as he breathed in deeply--perhaps a bit too deeply because he was feeling just a bit woozy now. He expelled the air patiently and his shoulders sank with the release.

Right shoe, left shoe, off. _Sleep is a thing_ , Kise thought. Then he wondered if he'd be able to get any that night...or day... He wasn't sure what time it was. Another deep breath brought with it an unfamiliar scent that tickled his nose. His mother had been by recently, maybe even that day.

There was nothing he cared to hide from her, so he didn't hesitate to answer in the affirmative when his mother offered to keep his place when he was away. On her routine visits, Kise's mother would dust, sort his mail, and make sure none of his appliances or utilities were suffering from disrepair or disuse. However, when she new Kise would be coming home after an extended time away, she'd mop, air the guest futons just in case, and scent the place with jasmine. If he was going to be home for more than two weeks, she'd get his cable and internet service reinstated and stock the fridge.

Kise eyed the three neatly bound stacks of mail next to his bag. The highest stack, which he was careful not to knock over when he set his bag down, he was certain was junk mail and it would all end up in the bin, so he figured any attention he cared to pay to it could wait. Next to that was a significantly shorter stack. Definitely bills and other things that reminded him that he was an adult. Finally, the third and shortest stack contained just two envelopes. Personal mail. One standard white card envelope and one large padded white polyolefin envelope. He breathed in. Ah...not unfamiliar, just...mingled, but it had been a while. The relaxing scent of sandalwood had politely taken over his place, well, the genkan anyway. It really had been a while, a year, in fact. He glanced at the over-sized envelope and smiled somewhat mournfully. Whatever it held called out to him, softly and unobtrusively, but still compellingly enough to allow for the postponement of sleep.

* * *

Baths are blessed things. They should be mandatory. Kise let these and similar thoughts swim around in his head while he idly wondered if the powers that be would consider outfitting every cockpit with a bathtub. He paused his musing for a moment to consider whether or not he'd be alright with his co-pilot seeing him naked. Cockpits weren't known for their spacious layouts, so there was no way they'd be able to erect walls and a door to block the bathtub from general view.

By the time Kise's flight of fancy came to it's natural end--which manifested itself as an image of his director laughing in his face rather than offering a simple "no"--he was dry and dressed and ready for bed. The five-inch gap between his bedroom curtains let in enough light to read by, so Kise forewent his bedside lamp and picked up the white card envelope off his nightstand. He slid the blade of his letter opener into a small gap in the seal and across the fold of the flap, then removed the card.

Kuroko's cards were always a little weird with their random covers--animals, math equations, trees, and a variety of other things that did not call birthday wishes to mind--but Kise'd come to expect that and, after a while, forgot to question whether they were truly random or if they meant anything at all. This year's card was no different; the fractal pattern on the cover related to nothing but was interesting to look at. The inside as well, though, this year Kuroko had remembered to write _happy birthday_ at the end of his note.

Kise stooped down and reached under his bed to find the old tin his mother gave him to hold the letters he'd collected over the years. Before that, they were just tucked in random places around his flat. He knew where they all were, so it didn't seem like a big deal that they weren't stored in a single designated place, but his mother thought to the contrary and, during one of her visits, gathered them and filed them in the tin by sender and post mark. It wasn't much of a filing system as there were only two senders.

He returned the card to its envelope and placed it in front of a row of 14 nearly identical envelopes. It was a weird tradition and Kuroko never explained why he started it, but this year marked year 15 of birthday greetings via snail mail from Kuroko.

The polyolefin was next. For a moment he debated on whether to open it or not and laughed--as if he could not read it. Despite Kise's complicated feelings, they were still his friend's thoughts and he wanted to know them. Kise now stood looming over it, but he knew he could not hold out for long and, for this, he had to sit. Or snuggle, to be precise. Kise braced the padded envelop against his nightstand and pulled at the the red strip to break the seal. He breathed in. Warm and mellowing, the sandalwood wafted up, stronger now, and danced about him, unraveling him. Even if he hadn't already planned to, he needed to sit, now. His knees held out just long enough for him to withdraw the inner envelope that the polyolefin protected and pull his bedding back so that he could settle into the comfort of his own bed.

The interior envelope, handmade and hand-folded and of an ashen gray, felt coarse in his hands. Though it looked like none of the others in the row in the tin it would eventually reside in, it could be considered standard. While not overwhelming, the sandalwood was strong, but Kise still felt the need to bring it closer to his face to breathe it in. He rolled onto his back and sighed a deep sigh, a sigh of longing, of unrequiting. His chest heaved as the tears welled. Just this was a pleasure for him; it could never go any further and he felt terrible about it, but if he managed to keep it to himself, it would be okay. It was okay.

 _It's so stupid. Utterly ridiculous that I can't keep it together,_ Kise silently chastised himself _. I'm just reading a letter from a friend. Regardless of my feelings, he still sees me as a friend, so that's what I need to try-- No. Th-That's what I_ am _._ Kise didn't believe his own thoughts, though he never stopped trying to will them to be so.

Kise wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. _Now is not the time to be sad. I've been waiting a whole year for this..._ He brought the envelope back up to his nose and inhaled. _...and now I've finally got it in my hands._ Kise tried not to think too deeply about the fact that one of those hands was now slipping beneath his waistband.

The urge was strong and although he had himself in hand, he still hesitated. Kise felt like his body was bullying him into it. He vibrated in the face of a want that kept advancing like a tide that didn't know how to recede. But no, he would not give in. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to shut everything out, but it was not enough to quell it. The heat it generated coated his insides, further unraveling him. He tried desperately to remind himself that now was not the time to be pulled under, now was not the time to go with the flow. Finally, Kise loosened his grip, pulled his hand back, and exhaled, unsatisfied. _It'll go away._

Back on his side, Kise pulled his limbs close to his body, as tight as he could, hoping to subdue the torrent that never seemed to ebb. He breathed in and out and in, deeper this time. He repeated this, going deeper and shallower until he was sure he could relax, sure he could just breathe, and sure he could read the letter with a clear mind, even if not with a clear conscience.

The flap of the envelope was secured by a slit in the pocket. Kise pulled it out and emptied the envelope of its contents. Six pages and photograph.

* * *

It used to just be a card. Actually, it used to be nothing, but thanks to Kuroko and a weird mix up one year, Kise got someone else's card and they got his. It was eventually rectified and Kise thought nothing more of it until the following year when, a few days after Kuroko's envelope arrived, Kise received another one bearing nothing more than his address and a postmark from Jökulsárlón, Iceland. He was immediately intrigued. He opened the envelope and found another one inside.

A pinkish envelope--handmade and hand-folded--lay in his lap and the faintest hint of sandalwood drifted by him. The envelope looked like a patchwork of cherry and plum blossom petals. _So soft_ , he thought and he wanted to rub it against his face, but he still didn't know who it was from. The card inside seemed to be made from a pulp of the same petals. Whatever the case, it was beautiful. And the only thing on the inside was a birthday wish endorsed by Kiyoshi Teppei.

The only thing Kise really knew about Kiyoshi Teppei was that he was a good ball player and someone whom both Kuroko and Kagami looked up to. That was enough to make him alright in Kise's book, but this gesture, from a presumably forgettable mix up, made Kise want to know a little bit more. He got Kiyoshi's address from Kuroko and the return birthday wish he sent was his hand in stoking the flames of the 11-year torch of friendship that passed between them.

At first, they just exchanged cards, then, as travelers, they included pictures of their whats and wheres. Kiyoshi's were much better. Kise supposed that it was to be expected since it was his profession, after all. In their fifth year of accord, a one-page letter was folded into the card Kise received, seemingly due to Kiyoshi being unable to fit all that he wanted to convey about the enclosed photo on the back of it. The photo Kise planned to send in return had quite a story to go with it as well, so he took the opportunity to respond in kind. And the momentum only increased from there.

While the accompanying photo remained singular and the inviting touch of sandalwood remained present, each following year saw the addition of another page and their topics spread across the gamut. In between the lines, they'd grown close--theirs was one of the few friendships Kise had that had very little to do with basketball or airplanes, and he cherished it. But it wasn't until last year that Kise realized that the breadth of his care, concern, and endearment had grown to include feelings of the amorous variety.

When his longtime relationship ended some years before, he never mentioned it to Kiyoshi, but something about Kiyoshi's letter that arrived barely a week later made him feel as if he'd known and without actually saying it in so many words, he was telling Kise that it would be alright. Kise hoped that on the two unfortunate occasions that he wrote to Kiyoshi out of turn--the two years that he himself was out of the country while writing; the same two years that Kiyoshi was in the country to receive them; the same two consecutive years of Kiyoshi's grandparents' passing--that his words were able to do even half as much as Kiyoshi's did for him. If they did, nothing would make him happier.

In the letter that made mention of the second and third anniversaries of his grandparents' passing--last year's letter--Kiyoshi wrote of his growing detachment to everything and how he thought that he'd soon become completely untethered. Kiyoshi hadn't returned to Japan since his grandmother's passing and had expressed that he now felt he had no home to return to. And it was to that which Kise's heart responded that _he_ could be his home.

At the very conclusion of that which was more than a mere thought and harder to explain than any feeling he had ever known, Kise understood, but understood nothing at all. Guilt and the sting of betrayal that he'd played upon a none-the-wiser Kiyoshi washed over him at once, nearly drowning him.

He did not want this.

He _absolutely_ did not want this.

The thought of losing another person he cared for because he couldn't keep his feelings in check, because the term _friendship_ no longer covered all of what he felt...it terrified him. However, despite what efforts his mind made to convince him that even entertaining such a thing was dangerous, his heart and his body warmed at the thought, pulsated at the possibility.

But no, he would not give in. He squeezed his eyes shut and reminded himself of that repeatedly and he kept on until the urge went away.

* * *

Since the cards turned to letters, Kise always saved the photo for last; he thought it to be something of an encore. This time was no different. He unfolded the pale yellow pages that were a soft complement to the ashened gray envelope and began to read. He read each word, granting them proper space, time, and attention and absorbed them into the very -ness of himself. When he finished, he felt a profound sadness, but even more than that, he felt ashamed at having been aroused at only the thought of Kiyoshi's words when they ultimately held very little more than grief.

Kise woke the next morning... afternoon--he still wasn't sure--feeling unrested, thoroughly tested, and at a complete loss. While he didn't think that Kiyoshi would do anything drastic, the tone of the letter certainly impressed upon him that Kiyoshi's fear of drifting off somewhere was very close to being realized. It wasn't Kise place, but he couldn't help feel that if he didn't do something soon, Kiyoshi would completely disengage and he'd lose him forever. Regardless of what form their relationship took, he knew he couldn't live with that. But what was he to do?

The day before, he fell asleep while wondering if he'd ever be forgiven for his feelings and, today, when he sat up in his bed, he heard the soft rustling of paper behind him. At that he realized that he never got around to putting the letter away.

Kise decided to start his day with a long soak and begged everything else to wait. The bath did its part to console him and, for the duration, he somehow managed to keep the troublesome thoughts at bay.

By the time Kise had finished dressing, he'd resumed his consideration and had come to a point of decision. After receiving Kiyoshi's annual correspondence, it was Kise's practice to respond within a few days. To his credit, though he could claim no skill in the art of letter writing, Kise was never at a loss for words because he spent the whole year jotting down the things he wanted to remember to include in the letter and, most times, it was practically finished by the time Kiyoshi's letter arrived. It was also his practice to save one full page to respond to anything put forth in the letter he received.

 _No matter what, a letter would be sent_ , Kise thought, but what should it say? He wanted to avail himself to Kiyoshi in whichever way he'd accept, but did he do so in tandem with a confession so that Kiyoshi understood precisely what he would be getting into or did he make the offer but leave out the confession since, irrespective of his decision, he had no intention to press the issue?

Time was of the essence and the choice weighed on Kise. Since he found that the idea of food repulsed him that morning and his tea had gone cold while he'd sat restless and brooding, he'd given up and returned to his bedroom to put a way the letter and set his bed to rights.

With the letter stored in the tin, he ran his hand across his blanket to smooth it out. On his second pass, he heard a dull crackle under his pillow. He pulled the bedding back, shoved his hand under the pillow and retrieved a photo, face-down. _Oh,_ he thought, mildly shocked, _I forgot about this._ And then he was suddenly aware that in addition to not putting the letter away the day before, he also never got around to looking at the photo.

Having already read the letter, he knew it was a view of the Undara Lava Tubes in North Queensland, Australia, so he was caught completely off guard when he flipped over the photo and saw, not a museum-ready composition of dirt and mud and arches and cave-like structures, but a picture of Kiyoshi in front of dirt and mud and arches and cave-like structures. Kise was speechless. It was the first time Kiyoshi had appeared in one of his pictures and it made him feel all the more strange as he realized that he fell in love with someone whose face he hadn't seen in more than a decade...almost two.

In truth, he'd only vaguely recalled Kiyoshi's features. And, if pressed, Kise could only admit to knowing that Kiyoshi was tall and broad and seemed exceptionally relaxing to be around. There was nothing else he could say and in realizing this again, he felt utterly ridiculous for even sparing a thought for a decision that, in all honesty, had already been made.

Kise studied the picture for a while longer and then a curiosity sprung up in him. He looked at the picture and then looked at the back and wondered if this was photo had been sent at the onset of their friendship, would the words that would have fit on the back of it have exposed Kiyoshi's grief or obscured it?

Needing neither an answer to that question nor time for further deliberation, Kise located his stationery, his notebook, and his favorite pen and sat down to write.

## Drifting

Kiyoshi looked about him to make sure he wasn't leaving anything behind. Not that he couldn't afford to replace any of his equipment, but he much preferred not having to. After forgetting or losing something at his last five locations, he was determined to put an end to that trend--as a metaphor for his life of late, it was entirely too literal. He surveyed his area one last time. Sarteneja was a detour to begin with, so he wasn't likely to be passing this way again anytime soon and even if he did, it wasn't as if he knew anyone there who would hold it for safe keeping. Satisfied that he remembered everything, he zipped his gear bag and headed for the ferry back to the room he was renting in Chetumal. This time the next day he'd be on his way to St. Eustatius and he would already be missing Belize.

The end of his first week on St. Eustatius saw Kiyoshi with no lodgings and nothing to do. The crew he was supposed to meet up with was delayed a week already by inclement weather and since he'd only booked a place for five days, he spent the last two sleeping on the beach. The festival that filled every last accommodation to capacity had ended the night before, so he'd be able to check into his new room in just a few hours. He hoped that, in the meantime, he wouldn't be approached by the local cops for vagrancy...again. The weather was nice, so he wasn't terribly inconvenienced, but without TV to distract him, he was left to thinking about something he could no longer do anything about.

He'd added some final thoughts to his yearly heyfriendhow'syourlifemylife'sliveablehappybirthday letter to Kise on his way from Australia to Mexico and mailed it not too long after he'd touched down in Bacalar. And ever since then Kiyoshi couldn't help but wonder if he should have. Well, the letter itself was fine, but he wondered if what he wrote about crossed any kind of line in their friendship.

The listlessness that led him to leave his teaching appointment only three years into his tenure to wander Japan with a camera in-hand had gradually morphed into a wanderlust that was just barely appeased by gallivanting across the globe. But no matter where he saw the sun rise or set, his heart remained in Japan. Or, that's how it used to be.

After his grandparents passed, he could never bring himself to say it, but he was truly alone. He had his friends, of course, but they had their lovers and families and their lives and various obligations and Kiyoshi didn't want to intrude on that. The dynamic was different when he still had family and a home to return to; those things were his alone-- _his_ grandparents and _his_ home. And it was because of that foundation that he could be so generous with everyone else. But without it, he was lost; he--his mind, his body, and his heart--had been truly wandering, unable to settle himself again.

For a while Kiyoshi thought that he could live with it, even find comfort in it, but over the last year or so, he'd come to suspect that wasn't the case. Five continents... Ninety-three countries in the last two years and he could barely remember the last five. Everything was beginning to run together and the only thing that stood out in the haze of frequent flyer miles and ports of call was the letter he got once a year from someone he probably hadn't seen since high school...almost 20 years. And yet, it was this bundle of ink on paper that anchored him somehow.

Unfortunately, that understanding came with a side of guilt. He and Kise were definitely friends. Their friendship hadn't begun in the most conventional of ways, but it was a true friendship nonetheless--11 years strong. And though they only communicated once a year, he was not mistaken in believing that they were friends all year long. But, in truth, that was all he really knew. Their conversation had grown over the years to include just about anything you could think to talk about, but he could do that with strangers. So, as he waited for the production crew to arrive, Kiyoshi speculated endlessly about the boundaries of his friendship with Kise and if him spilling his guts in his most recent letter breached them?

In last year's letter, Kiyoshi slipped in a paragraph about how he'd been feeling disconnected. It was kind of a test, really. Even though he saw Kise as an anchor, it wasn't fair to impose that on Kise, not without his consent. So Kiyoshi opened up a little to see how Kise would respond to him expressing something of that depth. The most Kiyoshi allowed himself to hope for was a basic "give it time and things will work themselves out." The worst would have been if Kise completely ignored that part of the letter. But it was neither.

One of the reasons Kiyoshi was worried about breaching their boundaries was because Kise's response to that single paragraph took up two of the five pages of his letter. Kiyoshi lost count of how many times he read those two pages. And, sometimes, when you indulge in something too much, the meaning can warp, become unrecognizable, or disappear completely and Kiyoshi was no longer sure if he was reading what Kise wrote or what he wanted to read.

* * *

Kiyoshi stretched out on his plank raft as he waited for the signal from the director to begin shooting. It was a little unnerving to be floating alone as far away from the shore as he was, but he didn't mind being separated from the noisy crew. The director and some guy who tried to hit on Kiyoshi the night before had an argument that morning and the guy who seemed like he only knew how to wave his checkbook around found some reason at the change of every set to revive the argument and there'd been nothing but delays all day because of it. Kiyoshi was irritated--they were loosing the light and he really didn't want to have to revisit this set--which was supposed to be the last--the next day.

At the blare of a megaphone, Kiyoshi looked up to see one of the ADs holding up his cue. _It's about time_ , he thought. He was sure that if this job went on any longer, he was going to snap. It amazed him how thoroughly this production had managed to ruin his first visit to such a beautiful place.

After everything wrapped, Kiyoshi headed back to his room and packed. He was in a bad mood and he didn't care to change it. Somewhere in his mind he wondered if it was simply that or had his frayed edges finally given up and just decided to unravel altogether. He never settled into the room, so there was no need to check the drawers and closets, but he still needed to check behind and under things. His search returned nothing, but he did catch sight of a brown paper bag on top of the TV bench.

* * *

In a safety deposit box in HSBC Bank Malta sit two archives. One contains 87 SD cards cataloging Kiyoshi's hobby-turned-career and the other contains 289 sheets of handmade paper--131 individual varieties soon to be increased by a portion of the contents of the brown paper bag. The latter archive, which used to increase at a rate of one or two pages a month--the leftovers from the ones he selected for the letters he wrote to his grandmother while he was abroad--now only opens once a year to accept the remainder of what he finds for the letters he writes to Kise.

* * *

Ten sheets of paper for a letter he wasn't sure he'd get to write. But, _so be it_ , Kiyoshi thought. When he was on the raft, he decided that there really was nothing he could do about it now. _The letter's already been mailed and has certainly already arrived, and if he's home, he's probably already read it._ Kiyoshi sat on the foot of the bed, flipping the bag over and over in his hands. _The only thing I can do is wait._ He fell back on the bed and let the sigh that was pushed out turn into a yawn. The mis-remembered lyrics of some song his grandfather used to sing came to him and he closed his eyes to find the melody. When Kiyoshi opened his eyes again, his alarm was not so gently reminding him that he had less than two hours to check out and be on his way.

It seemed to Kiyoshi that waiting was all that he was doing these days. And he thought, that if he must, he'd like to pass the time sleeping. So he queued a few playlists and tried to settle in for his 12-hour flight to New York. But before the plane took off and he could even get comfortable, he received an email from his mail forwarding service notifying him that he had mail and requesting his whereabouts. Kiyoshi replied with his itinerary for the next four weeks and, as always, thanked them for their service. His shoulders relaxed at the knowledge that at least one of his waits would soon be coming to an end.

By the time he landed in New York, the forwarding service had already replied informing him that he could collect his mail in their Chicago office as early as the following week.

* * *

New York was cold. Chicago was cold. And Vancouver was going to be freezing, but Kiyoshi wasn't going to worry about the latter until he got there. Right now he was in a restaurant in O'Hare's Terminal 1--it was the wrong one for his flight, but it had the best place to get a steak and he really needed something substantial before he opened Kise's letter. He held off on the alcohol because, while he wanted a full belly, he needed a clear mind.

With his appetite sated, Kiyoshi paid his bill and headed off to the Admiral's club in Terminal 3. Once he found a nice, quiet corner, he read the letter without delay.

When he pulled the letter out in the taxi on his way to his rented room in Vancouver, it would be the 12th? 13th time? Kiyoshi wasn't sure and it didn't really matter, because there was no way this letter could warp into anything else. It was only three pages--three pages short, he noted at first--and it was very clear what Kise's intentions were with it. The first page looked like his usual formula where he'd talk about the photo, but since the photo was of him standing in front of his door, it wasn't the usual at all. Furthermore, there was a hand-drawn map on the second page, and the third page was empty except for the sentence, "don't stand on ceremony" written above a plastic key card that was taped to the page. Rather than a letter, it was an invitation, one that Kiyoshi was more than grateful to accept.

## Okaeri

Kise closed his flat door behind him and shut out the world. He placed his bag on top of the shoe cabinet, leaned against the closed door, and sighed. It was good to be home. His lungs filled to capacity as he breathed in deeply--perhaps a bit too deeply because he was feeling just a bit woozy now. He expelled the air patiently and his shoulders sank with the release.

Right shoe, left shoe, off. _Sleep is a thing_ , Kise thought. Then he wondered if he'd be able to get any that night...or day... He wasn't sure what time it was. Another deep breath brought with it a familiar scent and he almost choked. His eyes darted to the top of the shoe cabinet, but it was only January and, as usual, there were only two stacks of mail next to his bag.

Kise chuckled to himself. He must've been imagining things or his olfactory system had gone out of whack. A small voice that had been nagging him since June asked, _Ryouta, are you that desperate?_ He never answered the voice because he didn't want to think about it. He didn't know whether he should have expected a response right away or if Kiyoshi would stick to their routine and send a reply to arrive in time for his birthday. It had been about six months, so Kise had settled on hoping that it was simply routine instead of silent rejection. And that's as far as he'd let himself get with that train of thought.

Sleep was really calling now and that was a voice he didn't mind answering. He huffed away the uncomfortable thoughts and took another deep breath-- There was something. This wasn't his imagination and he could smell things just fine. Sandalwood was definitely in the air. Kise quickly sifted through the two stacks of mail thinking that his mother might have mixed the letter in by accident. Nope, nothing there. What was it? He sniffed his coat, but that just smelled like cold air. Kise looked around the genkan but there was nothing there except for the the umbrella stand to his right and shoe cabinet with his bag and mail on top to his left.

His mind raced, but not nearly as quickly as his heart. He would laugh if the letter had somehow found it's way _into_ the shoe cabinet, but that was about the extent of it, because he didn't know what he would feel after. He inhaled as he braced himself and caught another whiff. Kise reached out to open the shoe cabinet. It was the kind you pulled the doors down on, like a secretary desk, so even though he only had it halfway open, he could see everything in there. His grip went slack and the door fell all the way open. He stepped back and lost his balance, falling into the umbrella stand. Kise stared and wondered if, rather than his olfactory sense, it was his mind that was out of whack.

_Those aren't mine._

Staring back at him from the upper shelf of the shoe cabinet was a pair of black boots. It wasn't because they weren't his style that they immediately seemed out of place--they were very much his style--but it was because they was very much his style that the same boots were already on his feet. Also, they were bigger.

* * *

Kiyoshi's eyes popped open at the clatter and thud coming from somewhere nearby. He still wasn't used to the place and looked around for a window to see what time it could be. He wondered how long he'd been asleep. He'd dozed off on the sofa after taking a shower, but since his hair was still damp, it couldn't have been for that long. Suddenly Kiyoshi remembered why he woke up in the first place. _Was that noise inside or outside?_

He hopped up off the sofa and looked in the bedroom and bathroom, but saw nothing. He was about to check the kitchen, but took a quick peek into the hall where he saw the owner of the flat in a tangle of limbs and umbrellas and winter grade outerwear.

"That doesn't look comfortable at all," Kiyoshi said in all seriousness, though anyone hearing it wouldn't readily take it that way.

Kise looked up, his face drenched in bewilderment.

Kiyoshi smiled. "Welcome home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not just leaving it here, but it will be a little bit before I finish since I have two other fics to finish already. I hope you like it so far.
> 
> \---  
> The fic and chapter titles are plucked from song titles/lyrics that do not intentionally relate to the fic; I just like the sound of the words.


	2. Travelling Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came sooner than I intended. I need to finish volume 3 of the other story, but I've been busy and I got swallowed up by this.

## Stay

With his coat and scarf still on, Kise sat stiffly on his sofa, staring off to his right, brushing imaginary wrinkles out of his slacks. He couldn't bring himself to look to his left, to where Kiyoshi was sitting. "You should put on a shirt, you'll catch a cold otherwise."

Kiyoshi looked down at his bare chest. "I suppose."

As Kiyoshi got up to pull a shirt out of his bag, Kise dared to eye him in his periphery. His jaw dropped when he saw the muscles on Kiyoshi's back pull and contract under his suntanned skin. He caught himself gaping and quickly covered his face with his hands and doubled over, dropping his head between his knees.

Kiyoshi'd only been there for three days and hadn't figured out how the heat worked and couldn't find any space heaters in Kise's place, so the flat was actually cold. When his long-sleeve t-shirt slid down over his nipples as he put it on, he hissed. " _Ssshit._ "

Kise raised his head immediately to see what was going on and his jaw dropped again. There stood Kiyoshi, rubbing each nipple as if he was trying to enlarge an image on a touch screen. "Oh my god, what the hell are you doing?!" The words came out before Kise even realized his brain was working again.

"Huh?" Kiyoshi looked down. "Oh, yeah. It's cold in here and my nipples are hard. Now, with the shirt, they fucking hurt."

There were just too many things to process at once and Kise was sure which ever of his systems were still functioning, they were about to shut down for good. He was there. Kiyoshi was in his flat, not even two meters away from him. Never mind that he was feeling himself up, or actually, Kise minded very much, but whatever. Kise wished he'd never looked up, because now he couldn't stop staring and his eyes followed Kiyoshi as he returned to the sofa. When Kiyoshi plopped down, a burst of sandalwood perfumed the air. Kise covered his face again and before he could stop himself, he was mumbling into his hands. "Oh god, I can _smell_ you..."

"...What?" Kiyoshi asked, unsure if he heard that right.

"You're really here."

Kiyoshi bounced over closer to Kise, but paused for a second when he saw him go rigid. "Hey..." He put his hand on Kise's knee.

Kise squeaked at the unexpected warmth seeping into his leg. He pulled his hands away, so he could determine the source, but when he opened his eyes, Kiyoshi was leaning to the side, staring up at him. Kise cried out some unintelligible curse and jumped back. "Fugah close! Your face!"

Kiyoshi remained unfazed. "You've been all jumpy since you came home. Are you high?" He was being facetious, but Kise's response told him that it didn't come off that way.

Kise, who, for some reason, had gathered his coat about him as if he was covering his naked body, was trying to figure out how speech worked again. He wanted to move further away but he had backed himself into the corner of the sofa. When his speech faculties had finally come to some agreement, words came out, but they weren't what he thought he intended to say nor were they said in the way that he thought he intended to say them. Somewhere in his head, the real him had been bound with duct tape and shoved in a closet and this idiotic facsimile had taken the reins. "A-Am I high?!" Kise asked incredulously, voice cracking like a choir boy at the onset of puberty. "Are _you_ high?! I mean, what are you even doing here?!"

Kiyoshi froze.

Even the real Kise in the closet could feel the air go out of the room.

Dread pulled at every centimeter of Kiyoshi. "But...you...wrote..."

Kise's complexion went pale when he saw how anemic Kiyoshi's had gone.

Kiyoshi, trying not to regret his decision to give in to his loneliness, started backing away. "Did I...really read it wrong?" His voice was a quiet rasp, as he posed the question more to himself than anything.

Kise was momentarily paralyzed by how quickly the situation had turned. His shock was one thing--he had a flair for the dramatic--but what he saw in Kiyoshi's eyes was something else entirely. Either the idiot let him loose or he managed to free himself from whatever had a hold on him and he lunged at Kiyoshi just as he started to stand. "K--" In that instant, Kise could not be convinced that everything before then wasn't a rehearsal for this one tragic moment. As he tried to call out Kiyoshi's name, he realized that he had never spoken spoken it out loud--or not that he could recall--and he could not figure out how to form the sounds to get it out.

For better of for worse, Kiyoshi's color returned when he looked down at how Kise had trapped him.

Kise looked, too, and was mildly horrified to find himself practically in Kiyoshi's lap, but wholly mortified to see where his hand had landed while bracing himself. His head snapped up and his gaze locked with Kiyoshi's, then his hand snapped up to cover his mouth as it yawned in embarrassment, but Kise quickly realized that since he had just removed it from Kiyoshi's crotch, his lips weren't really where he wanted his hand to be. ... _Well..._

Kiyoshi tried to swallow his laughter as it dawned on him that Kise was just kind of a mess at the moment and things were just going to be awkward for a bit. He did feel bad for him, but that didn't mean he was going to start going easy on him--it was entirely too much fun.

Slowly and cautiously, Kise withdrew from Kiyoshi's personal space, but his hand was still suspended awkwardly where he'd put on the brakes.

Kiyoshi caught Kise's hand in his and held it in his lap, preventing Kise from moving further away.

This was too much for him and he stared at his hand covered by Kiyoshi's, trying to figure out how to get him to let go. "K--" Kise stopped again, still unsure of how to compose the sounds. "Um...my hand?"

"So," Kiyoshi started, ignoring Kise's request, "did I read it right?"

"My hand... Can I have it back?"

Kiyoshi squeezed. "Should I not be here?"

Seeing that he wasn't getting his hand back, Kise sighed. "I didn't mean it that way."

"You know, we'll be at this all night if you keep talking like that." Kiyoshi maneuvered to look up at Kise whose attention remained fixed on their hands. " _What_ didn't you mean in _what_ way?"

Almost like a backdraft, every thought in Kise's mind receded for a moment and when he finally faced Kiyoshi, everything and more rushed back in. "K-Kiyoshi-san..." At last--it was like honey on his tongue and he savored it. Just the sound of him saying it settled something in him and his words began to flow a little more freely. Kise exhaled. "Kiyoshi-san, I'm sorry. I was surprised to see you--you didn't say that you were coming and, to be perfectly honest," a nervous laugh escaped "I wasn't sure you would."

"Eh? Why wouldn't I?"

 _I'm in love with you and that might have come through in my letter and it might have scared you away_ was what Kise knew to be the truth, but he wasn't so sure he should bring that up after what just happened. "Well, it might be crossing a line and you may not have been comfortable accepting that kind of gesture from...me?"

Kiyoshi snickered. "Are you asking me?"

"Um, no, I'm just not sure myself."

"Okay, so, let me put it this way." Seeing that there was still an edge to Kise's manner, Kiyoshi had a slight change of heart...just slight. He tried to lighten the atmosphere without turning the moment into a joke, which he was kind of tempted to do, so he relaxed his posture. "I'm here now," he said, titling his head a bit. "Should I stay or should I go?"

The chaos bubbling inside Kise made it impossible to keep things like tone and facial expressions totally in check, but he tried to find a way to deliver his answer with a modicum of calm. No dice. What his face was doing, he couldn't tell, but he heard his voice and it was definitely eager when he gave his answer: "Stay."

* * *

Kise went through his pre-flight checks and tried to situate in his mind that, when he returned home, Kiyoshi would be there to welcome him once again. Ignoring for a moment the number of shooed away daydreams such a thing would fulfill, he'd still have to go through the whole shock of it all over again. There probably wouldn't be any collapsing in the genkan or rubbing of nipples...in the same context...but he wasn't home long enough this time to get used to any of it.

Three days. Just three measly days with Kiyoshi and now he was off on another job and wouldn't be back home for another seven or eight weeks. He cursed his packed schedule. Buuuut, on the other hand, it was a godsend. Kiyoshi had turned out to be a touchy-feely kind of guy. Affectionate. Close. The abounding idiocy, awkwardness, giddiness, and disorientation of those three days collided in Kise's mind and the fallout was a laugh that left him lightheaded and forlorn.

"Sir?" the senior attendant asked, letting go of the cabin latch and turning to face Kise.

Kise was startled--he'd forgotten that he wasn't alone. "Oh, sorry, it was nothing." She was one of his regular crew members--a record 18 or so months--so he didn't mind easing up around her. She, on the other hand, was all business. That distance was a kind of insurance for her, though. After being with the company for close to ten years, Kise knew that it was par for the course and didn't think much of it.

"Understood." She turned back around and slid open the latch before being beckoned for real.

"The manifest, has it been reconciled?"

"I'm on my way to complete that now." She waited a beat. "So, if you'll excuse me...?"

"Yeah, of course." When the cabin door closed, Kise's previous train of thought resumed and he laughed again. There was a time when Kiyoshi's closeness wouldn't have been a big deal. It would have been welcomed, even reciprocated, but time hadn't done a good job of healing some of the wounds from Kise's last relationship, so instead of indulging in that kind of borderline behavior, Kise was unsure and uncomfortable.

He had suffered the occasional daydream in which he was being touched and held by Kiyoshi, but when it happened for real, when those large hands pressed against him while guiding him from place to place; while catching him as Kise's equilibrium seemed to have departed for the time being; or even just hanging onto him for one reason or another, Kise's circuits shorted. It was complicated. There didn't seem to be any inclination towards intimacy in the way Kiyoshi acted, even with touching, but still being unfamiliar with him, Kise didn't know what to make of any of it.

"Captain," a flight attendant called, interrupting Kise's thoughts, "I was told to inform you that the manifest has been reconciled and that we're all set."

"Oh, thanks," Kise said as he turned to acknowledge the attendant's presence, noting a face he'd never seen before, "we'll go in five."

"Understood," and he closed the cabin door behind him.

Piloting private planes did well for Kise's bank account, but did no favors for his social life. Even at work. Though the company was fortunate to have a low turn over rate, people were often reassigned at a moment's notice. And with more than 1700 branches around the world, it was common to never see someone again. The higher-ups encouraged familiarity, but discouraged friendliness. The class of their clientele practically demanded business protocols rooted in anonymity and discretion--the less people knew about each other, the less likely they were to engage in gossip and careless behavior and the more likely the passengers with secrets to keep, would have those secrets kept.

For Kise, it was just as well--people were tiresome and he couldn't be bothered with the drama anymore. That kind of attitude made his life a little lonely, but that was preferred to the alternative. Though, with Kiyoshi now underfoot--and he was; always around, always close--Kise wondered how he'd deal in the long term...would there even be a long term?

They didn't talk about much during those three days. Not for lack of want, but Kise slept most of the time, as was his habit for the short breaks in his schedule when he chose to go home. He did try to stay up longer than he would normally, but his body clock vetoed the effort. And when he _was_ awake, most of that time was spent eating out. The first two nights it was just the two of them trekking from one raucous bar to another. On the third night, they went out with Kise's mother so that she could meet Kiyoshi and not just run into him at Kise's place and report to the cops about some strange man in her son's flat. So, with all of that, they never got around to talking about a bunch of touchy subjects, namely, how long Kiyoshi would be staying and even more delicate...the sleeping arrangements.

Kise told Kiyoshi he could sleep in his bed while he was gone because the sofa wasn't made for sleeping, but that was only half the reason; the other half, or 3/4, was because Kise was a pervert and even though he wasn't going to _use_ it for anything, the knowledge that Kiyoshi was sleeping in his bed was something of a comfort to him. However, the conversation ended there because Kise didn't trust himself not to offer the other side of his bed for when he returned, so he figured it could wait until he got back and had more time to devise a plan--attack optional.

Regardless of when the conversation happened, they weren't without options. There were the guest futons that Kise conveniently forgot to mention as an alternative to his bed. He figured they could just magically appear if Kiyoshi was only staying for a bit. And there was the second bedroom, that could be cleared out if Kiyoshi was staying for a while.

Since it was a two-way conversation, there was only so much Kise could consider until the other party was present. He tucked the thoughts away and turned his full attention to the task at hand: landing the plane.

## Threshold

Kise closed his flat door behind him and shut out the world. He placed his bag on top of the shoe cabinet, leaned against the closed door, and sighed. It was good to be home. His lungs filled to capacity as he breathed in deeply. He expelled the air patiently and his shoulders sank with the release.

Right shoe, left shoe, off. _Sleep is a thing_ , Kise thought. Then he wondered if he'd be able to get any that night...or day... He wasn't sure what time it was--he was never sure on the ground. Another deep breath was cut short when Kiyoshi popped his head into the hallway.

"Welcome home."

Kise was kind of ready for this part. On the ride home he opted for trying to play it cool and acting like their situation was perfectly normal. "I'm back. Didja miss me?" Kise asked playfully, glancing up quickly to see if it passed muster. Seems like it did.

"Yeah," Kiyoshi responded happily and without hesitation, almost bouncing in place. "Here," he extended his hand, "let me take your jacket."

Kise slipped out of his jacket and handed it to Kiyoshi who draped it over his arm.

Kiyoshi extended his hand once more. "Come on, you're just in time!"

Kise accepted it somewhat reluctantly. "In time for what?"

"In a minute," Kiyoshi said as he pulled Kise up into the hall and ushered him to the living room expeditiously. "Okay, sit."

"Um..." Kise looked at the sofa and then around the room, trying to figure out what he was being set up for. "Kiyoshi-san?"

"You're not sitting." Once Kise's butt was parked on the sofa, Kiyoshi walked over to the closet near the hall to hang up Kise's jacket.

Kise sat with his hands on his knees and thrummed his fingers over them. He felt like he understood Kiyoshi's mind from all his letters, but none of what he knew was doing him any good face to face. He was just too nervous and with very little in the way of previous experience with Kiyoshi, his attempt and pretending it was all perfectly normal was turning out to be pretty useless. So he gave up and tried to steel himself for whatever came his way. He took a belated deep breath and smelled something savory in the air. He cocked an eyebrow.

Kiyoshi sat on the coffee table in front of Kise and smiled.

"...Yes?" Kise pressed, his tone decidedly on the curious side of impatient.

"I cooked."

Kise's other eyebrow hiked up to meet the first one, supporting his curiosity. "Do you know how?"

"I'm hoping you'll tell me."

Kise's brows dropped and furrowed. "Huh?"

"It's been a while since I've had a kitchen, so I might be a little rusty. You hungry?"

Before Kise could answer, his stomach growled. He looked down, patted his stomach, then looked back up at Kiyoshi. "The master has spoken."

Kiyoshi snorted. "Say no more." He stood and offered his hand.

* * *

After dinner, Kise was on suds duty and Kiyoshi rinsed and dried. He tried to get Kiyoshi to leave it all to him, but he wouldn't hear of it. And so, again, Kiyoshi was underfoot.

Kiyoshi nudged Kise with his elbow. "Thanks."

"Eh? What for? I should be thanking you. The food was _so_ good!"

"Oh...I suppose, but..."

Kise handed over the last plate and wrung out the dish cloth. "Well," he asked as he began to carefully pour the dishwater down the drain.

"You probably wanted to go straight to bed, but you indulged me and ate my food. So, thanks for that."

A sleepy grin curled Kise's lips up and to the side and his exhaustion made him forget for a moment. "Well, Kiyoshi-san, if you keep making food like that, I'll indulge you all you want."

Kiyoshi hung the dish towel on the hook and then regarded Kise for a moment. He was glad he seemed to have loosened up more. On his way to put away the pots and pans, he rested his hand on Kise's shoulder, leaned into him and gave him a quick peck on his head. "I might just take you up on that offer."

Kise's fingers lost purchase of the dish pan and then water was everywhere.

The right side of Kiyoshi's shirt was suddenly clinging to him. "Eh?"

He felt gross. Kise's front was soaked from the waste up. He gripped the edge of the sink to steady himself.

Kiyoshi turned to see. "What just happened?"

"F--" Kise bit his bottom lip hard to thwart the curse that was rushing out. He held his breath for a moment. Was he angry at Kiyoshi for being so clueless or angry at himself for letting his guard down? Kise sighed it out, easing up on his lip as well. As the pain retreated, he fumbled for a response. "I-- I... uh...I..." he faked a laugh, "I'm sorry about that; I guess I _am_ a bit sleepy." He kept his head turned away from Kiyoshi because he didn't think he could fake a smile.

Kiyoshi studied the tendons straining in Kise's hands.

"Eckhh. I feel...greasy," Kise said, trying to even out the mood.

"That's a word for it," Kiyoshi chimed as he stepped behind Kise and reached around to grab his hands.

Kise stopped dead as he felt Kiyoshi's body heat surround him. It pressed in closer and Kise was surprised to feel wetness against his back. "Eh? Kiyoshi-san, it got you, too?!"

"A little bit," Kiyoshi answered as he massaged Kise's hands to loosen his grip on the edge of the sink.

"I'm sorry. Uh... Why don't you--"

"Why don't _you_ ," Kiyoshi interrupted, "de-grease yourself and call it a day?" Without waiting for even a hint of agreement, Kiyoshi moved his hands to Kise's shoulders and steered him out of the kitchen and into the living room. "I'll finish up in here."

Kise obeyed. Under the water, his mind was a mess. He started in on a list of WWII fighter jets hoping the recitation would drown out the noise.

Kiyoshi knew he wasn't being fair and he still felt a little guilty since Kise was still a bit skittish around him. But there was no point in apologizing if he didn't mean it.

* * *

Kise sat cross-legged on the sofa as he dried his hair. He was scattered and anxious and sleepy, and what the hell was that in the kitchen? He left the towel hooded over him and sat up to lean over the back of the sofa, reaching for the drawer of the table behind it. He rummaged...and rummaged. For a moment he thought he was going to have to get up and walk around to the other side, but no sooner, his hand landed on the small leather case he was searching for. Somewhere between the shower and the sofa, it occurred to Kise that, if he was ever going to regain his equilibrium, he needed to find something familiar and take hold of it. And since he was going to be home for a while this time around, it was a small thing, but he figured he'd start with reclaiming his first day back routine.

Kise removed two pages from the newspaper on the coffee table. He placed one in front of him on the sofa and one on the floor below him. He unzipped the leather case and pulled out the nail clippers. While he clipped and trimmed, he tried to think of what he usually did next. He'd already eaten and the mail could wait. Then, just as he finally settled on unpacking, he heard the bathroom door slide open.

* * *

Even if only a little compared to what Kise got, being doused with dish water was gross and though Kiyoshi hadn't said it, he'd felt greasy, too. Fresh out of the shower, he headed to the sofa with his capsaicin cream and knee brace in hand. There was still room on the sofa next to Kise, so he claimed it. "I thought you were going to bed."

"I...umm..." Kise's grooming faltered along with his words and he almost clipped too far down. "Eeeessh... _That was close_."

Kiyoshi shifted in his spot.

As Kise examined his toe, making sure no parts of it was missing, he tried to sift through the clutter in his head. Even though he'd gone so far as to send Kiyoshi a key, there was a small part of him that had wanted Kiyoshi to decline. If he did, then Kise could get over him and not put himself on the road to another heartbreak. But he liked Kiyoshi. Before the romantic feelings began stirring, he'd look forward to Kiyoshi's letters just to see what he was up to, to see what was on his mind--his year pivoted around them and no matter what was going on in his life, those letters were like magic and the lines worked together to still and center everything. Kise wasn't so naive to believe that there was nothing else to Kiyoshi but that calm that leapt of those beautiful pages every year and enveloped him, but it was what he thought he needed. If he saw it, felt it, maybe then he'd be able to relax. Even still, he knew that his inability to get past the initial shock of it all--especially two months later--wasn't helping the situation. Kise sighed and tried to convince himself that this didn't _have_ to be awkward.

Kiyoshi realized that Kise had drifted off to someplace in his head. "Well...?" Kiyoshi prodded, hoping to pop Kise's thought bubble.

"Oh...yeah...uh, I will," he managed, slightly dazed, but still focusing on his task, "but I have stuff-- I mean, I have some stuff to do before I can."

Kiyoshi straightened his left leg out in front of him and rested his heel on the coffee table. His cream and brace slid off his right thigh and into the space between him and the arm of the sofa.

With his right foot done, Kise moved on to his left. "What about you?"

"Soon," Kiyoshi said, staring at the huddle Kise had made of himself. He tugged at the towel shrouding Kise. "Is your hair still wet?"

Kise lifted his head to acknowledge Kiyoshi's observation, but, midway, he caught site of skin. _No shirt, again._ Kise's head dropped quickly and he hummed an acknowledgement instead.

"Hey..."

"Hmn?" Kise refused to look up. "Whaa--!"

Kiyoshi pulled the towel off and laughed at Kise's mussed hair. "That's a good look for you."

"...Huh?" Kise asked, finally looking up. He followed Kiyoshi's line of sight which seemed to be directed right above his head. "Hey!" He quickly covered his head, flattening his hair in the process. "Kiyoshi-saaan, don't make fun of me," Kise whined, trying to fold in on himself, for a moment forgetting himself--or remembering...

Kiyoshi patted at Kise's hair with the hijacked towel.

"Kiyoshi-saaaan, my neck is coooold."

He thought it was cute. Then, like a table cloth about to be laid, Kiyoshi flapped the towel open and draped it back over Kise. "You can't hide forever."

Cloaked once more, Kise sighed. He was growing tired of himself. For a moment there was nothing, just a kind of weightlessness--not being tied down by hopes or expectations or fears--he just _was_. But back in the shadow of his shroud, that uncertainty clung to him again. How many times would he have to remind himself, assure himself, that there was no real reason he had to be so nervous? They were friends. No, they hadn't done the hanging out thing much, but they had history, 11 years' worth, things really didn't _have_ to be awkward. But the doubts remained. "I... I'm not hiding," Kise said as he folded the newspaper, neatly trapping his mess.

"Soooo..." Kiyoshi crooned, hoping to keep Kise from returning to his silence.

 _If only... If I could...just... Just what?_ Kise didn't know how to answer that. If he knew, he wouldn't be so uneasy. Getting further lost in thought, Kise turned over the idea that, rather than the awkwardness, if he could, perhaps, convince himself to be okay with the outcome regardless, if he could make himself believe that, no matter what, everything would be okay, would be for the best, maybe...just maybe he could--

"How long can I stay?"

A screeching halt. Here Kise was trying to work himself up to broaching the delicate subjects--ones he wanted to avoid, but knew he couldn't for long--in the next few days and yet, Kiyoshi was already there. Couldn't he wait? Did it have to be now? Wasn't he allowed to sleep on it first? If they talked about one, it would only open the door for the others. But...

"Kise...?"

Kise knew that if he tried to dodge this, things between them would never be anything but awkward. Forget a relationship, he'd be lucky if it didn't push Kiyoshi away for good. Kiyoshi was reaching out, he'd called across the distance and Kise already knew this; his heart had already answered. Now, if only his brain could follow through.

Kiyoshi placed his hand on Kise's knee. His heart hesitated before he spoke again. He hadn't wanted to put it out there yet, but he had to keep his pace. And if it meant getting a definitive answer, if it meant knowing if Kise was...willing, then he had no choice but to ask. Only now, he wasn't so sure. "Is this too much for you? Am I asking for--"

Kise was so deep in thought that he didn't even notice Kiyoshi's hand on his knee. And it wasn't even Kiyoshi's words that snapped him back, it was his tone. It was apologetic and so...distant. Kise's head lifted and the towel he'd be hiding under slid off. _If a door opened, so be it; I'll just walk right through._ He put his hand on top of Kiyoshi's and curled his fingers around it. "Kiyoshi-san," he said as he steadied his gaze on the one that he'd been avoiding up 'til now, "you can stay...as long as you like."

"Are you--"

Who was he kidding? Kise summoned everything to maintain his composure, but his throat and chest ached liked he'd just gotten the wind knocked out of him. Was that a cold sweat rising? He wanted to laugh at himself--there was no way he was going to make it through any doors in the condition he was in, especially when a panic was hot on the heels of that cold sweat. He'd taken a step, but now he wanted to retreat. Be it cracked or flung wide, the door would have to wait. Kise squeezed Kiyoshi's hand and managed a smile, "I'm...sure." The words seemed to be taking their time coming out, but he continued, "And now that that's sorted out," his voice skipping an octave "I really need to get to bed; it's way past my bedtime."

It was only quarter after nine, but Kiyoshi knew Kise was tired when he got home, so even though he wanted to stay with him a while longer, he didn't fight it. He watched as Kise got up and then he turned back to tend to his knee.

"Oh," Kise said, turning around to face Kiyoshi, feeling just the teeniest bit of relief, "we can clean out the second bedroom tom--Kiyoshi-san!"

Kiyoshi acknowledged Kise in his periphery, "Yeah?"

"Your knee... What's up with your knee?" The words came out in a bubble of shock and concern.

"Oh..." Kiyoshi pauses. He took a second to piece the scene before Kise. Even though he was tending to his knee, he's done it so many times, it's not anything he really pays attention to anymore, so his response is more a dismissal than anything else. "Nothing."

"That's not nothing." Kise knelt on the sofa next to Kiyoshi. "Why didn't you tell me you were injured?"

"'Injured'?" Kiyoshi snorted. "This is decades old; it's just acting up."

"Well, I'll use the--" Kise paused, he hadn't mentioned the futons yet, "I'll sleep on the sofa tonight. Actually, you still need a bed. I can camp out here until--"

"You don't need to do all that," Kiyoshi said as he fastened the last strap on his brace.

"But you can't be comfortable on the sofa, it's not even long enough for you!"

Kiyoshi reached over and tweaked Kise's nose and ruffled his hair. "I'll be fine for a few days. Besides," and he stood up to demonstrate that he wasn't an invalid, "this is more prevention than anything."

Kise's lips twisted into a frustrated pout.

Kiyoshi presented his hands, palms up and beckoned Kise who accepted a little more readily than before, but still with more hesitation that he thought was truly necessary. "Now, you're not the only one who's tired."

Kise let Kiyoshi march him into his bedroom, but once they crossed the threshold, Kise dipped down and around, came up behind Kiyoshi, and nudged him further into the room. "Sleep well, Kiyoshi-san~~" Kise sang on the other side of the closing door, his voice full of satisfaction.

Kiyoshi stood in the middle of the room he'd slept in for the past two months, teetering between salty and impressed at being outsmarted by Kise. He wasn't going to win, not tonight anyway, so he gave up and went to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do terrible things to Kise. I always make him earn his happiness. You'd think it'd be easier with a guy like Kiyoshi, but apparently not.
> 
> I think the next chapter might be the end, but there could be a 4th.
> 
> This chapter's title brings several songs to mind. They still have nothing to do with the story.
> 
> [Mos Def](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mIdeTnk8k0) \- This song has so many mixes; I think this is the first mix I heard and it's my favorite.  
> [Ricky Nelson](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ld38AK-yd0M)  
> [Frankie Beverly & Maze](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dRKEXjss_vU)


	3. Between Here and Gone

## Lying in Wait

After breakfast, Kiyoshi stepped out to the post office and Kise started on cleaning out the second bedroom. It wasn't so much cleaning as it was purging. Years of memories secured by cardboard and tape. It'd been so long since he packed everything up, that he forgot what was in most of the boxes. By the time Kiyoshi returned, Kise had sorted and re-boxed what he wanted to drop off at the recycle shop and what he wanted to burn. The idea of burning was figurative...mostly.

Kiyoshi kicked off his boots and headed for the second bedroom. He poked his head in and saw Kise sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by boxes. "Kise?"

Kise turned toward the door and moved a stack of boxes aside. "You're back?"

"I'm back."

Kise smiled. It was absentminded, dreamy even, as if he was remembering a pleasant secret. Kiyoshi was almost lost in Kise's expression. Neither one of them noticed how Kiyoshi licked his lips in response as if the set of Kise's features _was_ some kind of delicious secret. And maybe it was. Continuing on unaware of the silent conversation they were just in, Kise asks, "Did you get everything done?"

Kiyoshi looked at his watch. "Nah, but I'll take care of it later in the week. What do you need help with?"

Kise looked around. He'd done just about everything there was to be done. "Can you help me move these into the hall?"

"Sure. What are you doing with it?" Kiyoshi stepped into the room and lifted the handwritten sign that was taped to the side of the top box in a stack of three. "'Burn'? Why are you burning your stuff?"

Kise stood up and dusted himself off. "I, heh... Although I really want to, I don't actually plan to burn it, but those things aren't going with the rest."

"Okay..."

"It's not my stuff anyway, so... Anyway, anyway... Are you read to go?"

Kiyoshi wondered if he should be concerned.

"Kiyoshi-san?"

"Oh, yeah. Are we taking the train?"

* * *

The mattress store was quiet at 11 in the morning. The saleswoman left them to browse at their leisure after delivering her spiel and pointing them in the direction of the memory foam selections. Kise had purchased three mattresses in his life so far, but Kiyoshi had not so much as window shopped for one. Mattresses were purely personal preference purchases, so Kise hung back and trailed at a distance as Kiyoshi sat on this bed, knelt on that one, and rolled across a few more.

"How's that one?" Kise asked when he caught up with Kiyoshi who was lightly bouncing on a gray pillow-top mattress with an intricately tufted pattern.

Kiyoshi laid back on the mattress. "I like it..." His pitch went up on the last word.

Kise pressed his hand into the mattress, testing its give. "But?"

Kiyoshi caught Kise's arm and pulled him onto the mattress with him.

The saleswoman could have been mistaken for a whack-a-mole they way she popped up from behind her counter when she heard Kise scream. Mattress shopping had to be pretty low on the list of things considered exciting, so she was concerned, but she snickered and turned back to her paperwork when she heard him giggle.

Kise landed more on Kiyoshi than he did the bed and giggled nervously into Kiyoshi's chest because of it. Kiyoshi sat up a bit and Kise rolled off of him onto his back. His face was bright red, but he was too dazed to remember to hide it. Kise sobered quickly when Kiyoshi's shadow fell over him.

Kiyoshi leaned in and spoke softly into Kise's ear, "But...I want to know what _you_ think."

"...Wha-What for?" Kise mumbled as his eyes searched for some direction other than straight ahead to stare.

Kiyoshi pulled back just enough to look into Kise's eyes. A hint of mischief played at the corners of his mouth.

"Well," Kise said as he wiggled his way from under Kiyoshi, "I'm not the one who's going to be sleeping on it every night..."

Kiyoshi sat up and stretched. "Maybe not _every_ night..." he said, his words lost in his yawn.

"Huuuuuh? Kise's mouth was wide open. "Don't yawn; you know it's contagious!"

"Heh..." Kiyoshi stood up, fixed his shirt, and surveyed the showroom. "Did we see them all?"

Kise was lost in thought trying to figure out what to make of Kiyoshi's behavior and if he should play along. But, as seemed to be a growing trend, by the time he made a decision, Kiyoshi was already moving on.

"Kise?"

"Huh? What?"

"Did we see all of the memory foam beds?"

Kise looked left and right and turned around to take in everything. "Yeah, seems like it."

"You ready to go to the next place?"

"Eh?" Kise pointed at the mattress they were just on. "What about that one?"

Kiyoshi glanced over his shoulder. "I'll, uh...put it on my list."

"You sure?"

Kiyoshi turned Kise towards the front of the store and guided him to the exit by his shoulders. "Yeah...don't wanna seem too eager, ya know?"

"...If you say so."

The saleswoman was occupied with a couple that had just walked in, so they slipped out unchecked. They couldn't have been in the next store for more than 10 minutes before Kiyoshi claimed that they didn't have what he wanted. It was the same thing in the next three stores. When they were on their way to the sixth store, Kiyoshi turned to Kise.

"What kind of bed do you have?"

Kise turned a bit toward Kiyoshi as they continued walking down the street. "Mine was a special order."

"Can I do that?"

"Eh?" Kise said as he stopped. "You want mine?

Kiyoshi's brow rose at how much fun he could have with that question, but he decided to hold off for the time being. He stopped as well. "Best sleep I've had in a long time."

Now wasn't really the time for Kise to be thinking about Kiyoshi sleeping in his bed, but that didn't stop him.

* * *

Kise stretched and kneaded and poked and prodded as he walked to the kitchen sink. His back was feeling the effects of sleeping on the sofa. The place he ordered his mattress from was on holiday, so they hadn't been able to set up a consultation for Kiyoshi and were just waiting to be notified when they'd be able to make an appointment. Another week and Kise figured he'd have to give in and pull out one of the futons.

After running his errands to the post office and to pick up the day-old newspapers Kise said they would need, Kiyoshi returned around noon to find his flatmate standing over the kitchen sink and digging the back of his wrists into his lower back in a failing attempt at a massage. He quietly placed the newspapers on the table, crept up behind him, and slid his thumbs under Kise's shirt and took over.

Kise's spine and knees jellied in an instant and it took everything he had to support himself with his hands on the counter. With all his efforts channeled to stay relatively upright, he had none to spare for controlling the moans and sighs Kiyoshi's handiwork effortlessly coaxed out of him. "Ki-- Uuuhhhah...Oh gaahh..." Kise knew he had to regain his wits when he sensed his mouth watering.

The muscles under the pale skin yielded with ease. Kiyoshi watched as the red from the applied pressure blended with the blush that had begun to spread and disappear under the waistband of Kise's jeans. "Did you pull something?"

Kise didn't even attempt to respond. A tingling warmth swirled and coiled around his back muscles, loosening every knot with each pass. His head hung down and his back arched forward as Kiyoshi ran a groove up the center of it with his thumbs. The trace back down was slow and meandering. When Kiyoshi's hands finally came to rest on Kise's hips, time stood still. Kise wished he hadn't stopped. Would it be too much for him to ask Kiyoshi to continue?

Kiyoshi tugged ever so gently at Kise's hips.

Was that Kiyoshi or was he beginning to sway due to his balance giving way? Kise couldn't call it. His mind only considered it for a moment because he was still trying to workout what he should do to satiate the urge that had welled up in him. What would Kiyoshi do if he turned around and pressed his erection up against him? Would he respond or would he retreat? When Kiyoshi's large hands released him, time resumed its onward march.

Still mere centimeters away, Kiyoshi folded his arms across his chest as he admired Kise's loosened form. "Better?"

Kise absentmindedly wiped at the trickle of drool on the corner of his mouth and got a whiff of the prawns he'd been shelling before Kiyoshi returned. He was suddenly aware of a voice that seemed to be directed at him. "Huh?"

"I asked if you felt better."

"Ummmmh," Kise said sluggishly. "Ye-ah..." His voice cracked. "Kiyoshi-san, you're, uh, you're really good with your hands." Kise reached for the faucet handle. Maybe if he finished preparing the food, maybe if he focused on something else, he could pull himself together and will the heat below his belly to subside. "I feel like I should tip you."

"Heh... I'll take that as a compliment. Although I've already got in mind a few ways you could make payment, that was an exclusive and priceless service reserved only for my dearest _friend_ ," Kiyoshi said, emphasizing the singular.

Kise wanted to turn and look Kiyoshi in the eye to see if he understood the meaning of his words, but by the time he did, Kiyoshi was walking away. Again. Kiyoshi changed focus so quickly, he could never seem to keep up.

"I got the papers. You need them now?"

"Uh, yeah," Kise said as he slowly resumed the task before him. "I... Can you wrap up the shells and scraps to my left?"

"Sure thing." Kiyoshi returned to the sink and got a good look at what Kise had been working on. Mounds of prawns, mussel meat, clams ready for steaming, scallops, and a head-off and split fish that he couldn't identify. "Are we having company?"

Kise's heart fluttered. _Are_ we _having company_ , he said. _We_.

"Kise?"

"Oh, no... I don't do company." Kise said it so nonchalantly that Kiyoshi's left brow arched in response--not that Kise saw as he was focused on the food. He tossed and shook the last of the prawns in the colander, draining as much water as possible. "With the movies you picked to watch today and tomorrow, I thought a seafood feast was appropriate."

"Oh, cool." Kiyoshi separated some pages from one of the newspapers and began to fold up the sides and bend and tuck the corners. "There's still time."

"For what?"

"You let me pick all the movies; I can still run out and get something you want to see or you can find something on Netflix," Kiyoshi said as he swept the shells and other waste into the newspaper bowl he made. "Or you can go while I'm cooking."

Kise considered the offer.

"I am cooking, right?"

"Ha! Of course! If you left it to me, everything would be fried and covered in cheese."

Kiyoshi looked at the clams and cringed. "So, you wanna pick a movie?"

"Not really. You picked  _Umi wa Miteita_ ,  _Song of the Sea_ ,  _Ano Natsu, Ichiban Shizukana Umi_ and...what else?"

"Hmm, _Ponyo_ , _Life Aquatic_ , and _Kokyô_."

"Yeah, so I've only seen _Ponyo_ and  _Kokyô_. And I just... Well, I just want to hang out, really. Not that the movie doesn't matter, but I'm pretty much cool with what...ever..." Kise watched Kiyoshi's hands as he folded up the bowl of scraps and skillfully rolled the bundle, burrito-style, into another page. Just a moment ago those hands were working heat into his skin and now they were disposing of garbage. It was quite the metaphor for how things were going between them. One minute the air around them would be filled with restrained energy as they snuck questioning glances and the next they'd be actually talking about the weather.

Kise no longer understood what his pace was--he was constantly trying not to be tripped up by Kiyoshi's. Still, before he even realized, being around Kiyoshi had gotten much easier. The comfortable atmosphere brought with it its own issues, though. Since he was no longer on edge, grasping at control, afraid of saying things he wasn't ready to say, Kise worried that he would lose his nerve to confess to Kiyoshi altogether. At least when he was jumpy and the wrong thing was always on the tip of his tongue, he felt that, if the worse happened, not that much time would have passed since Kiyoshi came and he might even forgive him for not being upfront about his feelings. But now, the more relaxed they were, the less inclined Kise was to tell Kiyoshi how he felt and the longer he held out, the more deliberate and underhanded him keeping mum seemed. He knew it was wrong--Kiyoshi should be the one to decide whether or not he was going to be a party to Kise's affections.

Nothing good ever came from a lie, Kise knew that well, but he didn't know how to move forward without ruining everything along the way.

## Sleep Well

Kiyoshi turned off the kitchen light as he walked into the living room. "I'm done."

Kise was knocked out. Beginning with lunch and ending with dinner, they managed to get through three of the films and nearly half the food. The plan was for them to watch the news before turning in, but it didn't look like that was going to happen.

"You must have been exhausted," Kiyoshi said to body curled up neatly on the sofa. He started tidying up. Off went the television and into a neat stack went the DVDs. He was in the middle of removing the throw pillows from the sofa so that Kise could sleep when a bottle of naproxen sodium rolled from under one of them. Kiyoshi looked at the bottle and then looked at Kise. He realized that he was not simply in a fetal position, but he was actually stretching his back. "If the pain was that bad, you should have said something."

Not even so much as a wrinkle crossed Kise's brow when Kiyoshi picked him up.

"Let's get you in bed, sleepyhead."

* * *

Daylight crept around the edges of Kise's eyelids. He tensed his whole body before rolling over to face the window, he figured it was time to get up. From his toes up, he wiggled and flexed out the tension, causing the breadth and width of him to melt into bed. With one long exhale, he was fully relaxed. For some reason it wasn't as bright as he had expected, so his eyes did not succumb to the compulsion to open. And while considering this, he drifted back to sleep.

 _Bed? When did I...?_   A minute later Kise's eyes flashed open. He waited for his vision to focus. Rather than it not being bright out, it was more a matter of something blocking the light. Pink stripes? Kise's field of vision widened, taking in a turned down blanket that exposed an arm. Further up there was a collar capping off the stripes, the slope of a neck, a strong chin, and Kise stopped when he reached a broad smile. _Oh God..._

"Aww... You were supposed to keep going." Kiyoshi tugged gently at the part of the blanket that now covered Kise's face.

"Kiyoshi-san?" Kise questioned, words muffled beneath the loose knit of the fabric.

"Yes?"

"Uhhmm... What's going on?"

"It's about quarter after 11, you missed breakfast--not that I made much--and I was thinking about going to Isetatsu before lunch, but wanted to wait for you to get up."

Kise peeked from behind his cozy defense. "Okay, but... okay...but why am I-- are you--are we--"

"You sound like a Maxwell song."

"A who?"

"It's not important. Are you trying to ask why we're in your bed?"

"...That works."

"You, my friend, didn't tell me you were in that much pain."

"Pain...? What-- Wait..." Kise trailed off, unsure if a response was even warranted.

"You were knocked out by the time I finished the dishes. I saw the painkillers next to you and put five and eight together." Kiyoshi poked Kise square on his forehead. He didn't want to tease him too much, but he was actually upset. "It doesn't make me feel good to know I'm inconveniencing you, Kise."

"You're not, though!"

Kiyoshi rolled onto his back. "I'd rather you slept in your own bed. We could even share it; there's enough room."

All the things that could go right or wrong in that situation ran through Kise's mind. "Um, I d--"

"That's fine. I'm _not_ injured, so I can handle not sleeping on a bed until I get my own. I've slept in worse places.

"But the sofa isn't long enough for you..."

"Nor is it comfortable enough for you. But you have futons, right? I saw them in the other room."

Was he blushing, too, or was it only the heat of embarrassment washing over him? "Oh... yeah, I do...don't I?"

"See? Problem solved." Kiyoshi yanked the covers off of both of them and laughed when Kise reflexively covered a part of his lower half. "What are you doing?"

"Well, it's kind of..."

Kiyoshi sat up and placed his feet on the floor. "In case you forgot, I have one of those, too. I'm well-acquainted with morning wood."

If Kise wasn't blushing before, he certainly was now. And after that, he couldn't bear to ask if both of them slept there or if Kiyoshi was only there to wake him up. If he didn't confess soon, things were only going to get weirder.

* * *

On their way to Isetatsu, they stopped for a mid-day treat. Kiyoshi gobbled up his dorayaki while Kise savored his imagawayaki.

Kise wasn't familiar with Isetatsu, so when they got there and he saw that it was a paper store, he was puzzled. "Isn't Ito-ya closer?"

"Yeah, but that's a whole day just for browsing. Plus Isetatsu is a member of Toto Norenkai like the other dorayaki place I told you about."

"Baikatei?"

"Yeah, that one. Gotta support tradition."

"I never think about that stuff." Not that he was against it or anything, but he was very much a child of the Heisei era and rarely spared a thought for things that weren't on a _new_ or _next_ list and had little time for things that didn't light up and go _beep_. However, the thought of getting in touch with tradition accompanied by Kiyoshi seemed like it might be a good way to spend his time on the ground.

"Even though these sorts of things are the foundation of everyday life, there are a lot of people that don't, but that's fine. If Japan only clung to the past, we'd never grow."

"You don't sound like you've spent most of the past 10 years abroad."

Kiyoshi snickered at Kise's observation. "Leaving home made me miss Japan in ways I never thought I would."

"I guess I can understand that." Kise looked through the store window and saw the walls and shelves lined with stacks and rows of paper and traditional tools. It didn't seem like it would take that long to go through the store and, to him, Ito-ya didn't seem all _that_ much bigger--though he'd never actually been inside. "I know Ito-ya" has a lot of stuff, but can you really spend a whole day on a single storey?"

"Single?! Try eight! There's eight floors in that place. We have a movie date tonight, so we don't even have time to browse the ground floor. Besides, I'd never ask you to go there with me."

"Huh?! Why not?!" Kise asked, his voice rose with his outrage, almost forgetting where they were.

Something pricked Kiyoshi's heart when he saw the hurt expression on Kise's face. "Oh, it's nothing bad, but I can easily spend three hours in a single section of a single floor and that's a lot to ask of someone who's not that interested."

"I'm interested!" Kise shot back defiantly, somewhat shocked by his still-high volume.

Kiyoshi cocked an eyebrow at the conflicting look of surprised and fierce determination Kise was showing. "Umm...alright," Kiyoshi said with a hint of inquiry in his tone. "I'll, uh, let you know when I go."

Feeling accomplished, Kise skipped forward a few steps when Kiyoshi held the door open for him. Just before he entered the shop, he cut his eyes at Kiyoshi in a don't-underestimate-me fashion, stuck out his chin, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Hmph."

Kiyoshi watched Kise walk ahead. _He's so fucking cute!_

Kise was browsing through the origami papers when he got a text. He considered the message for a minute and then replied: I'm going to be busy. He shoved his phone back into his pocket, slightly annoyed.

Stripes were the order of the day, so Kiyoshi spent most of his time flipping through stacks of chiyogami trying to find one or two with a stripey pattern that suited his mood. His phone buzzed, but he couldn't check the message just yet. As he walked to the register, Kiyoshi hoped they had some kind of moist towelette available. After checking out so many stacks, he had a slight film on his hands from the paste residue on the backs of the sheets.

Kiyoshi placed his selections on the counter and held up his hands to the cashier, palms forward. Without a word, she reach under the counter and pulled out a little packet about the size of a condom. "Thanks." He tore it open and proceeded to remove the subtly sticky substance.

Kise exited the shop and looked around. "Where to next?"

"One sec," Kiyoshi said as he checked his phone. "I got a text from Kuroko, did you?

"Yeah."

"He said there's going to be a handful of people from Seirin and Touou and your Teikou mates gathering next weekend. You going?"

"No."

"Really? Why?"

"Um, you didn't tell him you were staying with me, did you?"

"...Not yet. Would there be a problem if I had?"

Kise pursed his lips and considered how much he should say. "No, just that, if he doesn't know, you can go without me and it won't raise any questions. So, don't let me stop you."

"So you're not going?"

"I told him I was going to be busy."

"Doing?'

Kise looked down the street. It was a really nice day. Even if Kiyoshi had done all he came to do, Kise thought that he wouldn't mind walking a while before they headed home. "Nothing really."

Kiyoshi studied Kise's profile until Kise turned back to face him.

"What?"

Should he pry? Although his expression looked open, Kiyoshi understood that Kise's tone was decidedly not. "Um...nothing. I'm done. You wanna walk for a bit?"

* * *

A stream of expletives sounding at various pitches interrupted Kise's slumber. He stumbled out of bed half-panicked and across the hall into the other bedroom. "Kiyoshi-san," he called out as he flipped the switch for the ceiling light, "are you alright?!"

Kiyoshi was sitting up in the middle of the futon as his hands worked vigorously against his calf muscle. "Ughh!"

"What's wrong?" Kise asked as he knelt on the futon."

"Charley-- Ugh... A Charley horse."

"A...what?"

"A cramp! I got a-- Good God! I got a damn cramp in my calf!"

Kise reached for Kiyoshi's calf, but pulled back when he let out an indescribable sound. "Kiyoshi-san...are you laughing or crying?"

"I don't knooooow."

Kise brought his fist to his mouth and bowed his head as he made a terribly weak effort to disguise his laughter.

"That's right, go on. Laugh it up as I writhe in pain," Kiyoshi whined with only a little bit of real sulking behind his words.

"I'm--" Kise snorted. "I'm sorry, here," Kise gestured for Kiyoshi to let go of his leg, "let me help you."

Two breaks and 15 minutes later and Kiyoshi could finally fully extend his leg. "Thank you," he said, winded and painfully exhausted.

He knew he wasn't as good as Kiyoshi, but he was glad he could help. Kise stood up and offered his hands. "Come on."

"Huh?"

"You're going to sleep in the bed."

"I'm fine now."

Kise bent and unbent his fingers in unison, beckoning Kiyoshi again. "Now, yes, but what if it happens again?"

Kiyoshi fluffed his pillow under him. "Sleeping on a futon isn't what caused this. I'll just up my potassium intake. Besides, I told you I don't want to inconvenience you."

"Being shocked awake like that is an inconvenience. Sleeping in the same bed with you is not. So, to the bed with you."

" _With_ me?" Kiyoshi echoed as he sat up. "You didn't seem too keen on that idea the other day."

Kise slowly pulled his arms into a fold across his chest. "Well, not exactly..."

"Don't hold your tongue."

"It was... I was caught off guard. And, might I remind you," Kise leaned forward, emphasizing his soon to be made point, "I had just woken up to find myself in my bed when I know-- Well, didn't _recall_  going to sleep there the night before. Furthermore..." Kise chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. "Furthermore," he said; volume and forcefulness significantly less than a moment ago, "I'm no longer all that accustomed to waking up to someone else in my bed, okay?"

"Oh..."

Kise reached out once more. "So, you know, I'm still sleepy, so let's go."

Kiyoshi took Kise's hand and allowed him to bear some of his weight as he stood up. When Kise sidled up to him, he didn't protest and just leaned in.

Kise pulled the covers up over Kiyoshi and tweaked his nose. "Alright, get some sleep. And don't suffer in silence! You better wake me if something happens." He walked around to his side and slipped in.

There was nothing remarkable about the smooth white ceiling, but Kiyoshi stared at it anyway. "You're one to talk."

"What was that?"

"Seriously, your bed is the best. I'm almost afraid to order my own for fear that it won't be quite the same."

Kise knew that wasn't even remotely close to what Kiyoshi said, but he let it slide. "Don't worry, I bought two from them and they were both perfect. But never mind that, you didn't answer me."

 _Two?_ Kiyoshi wondered. "Answer what?

"You have to wake me if something happens."

"Oh, sure, but I don't think anything will."

"Whatever, just don't let me find you in pain when I wake up."

"As you wish, Kise- _sama_."

Kise sat up and leaned over Kiyoshi. "Don't give me that! I mean it!"

Kiyoshi looked up at Kise, a bit remorseful. He slid his hand around and rubbed Kise's back. "I'm sorry. I'll be sure to wake you if something happens."

Kise's head dropped as it shook back and forth. "Kiyoshi-san, sometimes I can't tell if you're being serious or not. Please don't tease me about things like this--I'm really worried."

Kiyoshi pulled Kise in and held him to his chest. "You're really fun to tease, so it's kind of a knee-jerk reaction. But I'm always serious, no matter how much I play around. But I don't want you to worry either, so I'll try to keep that in check."

Kise could feel the peaceful cadence of Kiyoshi's heart beat. He thought if he laid there any longer, he'd definitely fall asleep like that.

"So, about the mattresses... If they were perfect, why do you only have one now?" Kiyoshi asked as he continued to spread his heat over Kise's back. His curiosity lingered.

Couldn't he have just one pure moment? Just one moment where current apprehensions, worries for the future, or past miseries couldn't interject themselves? Just one? Kise turned away from Kiyoshi and pulled the covers over his head. "I threw the first one out."

Kiyoshi stared at Kise's back. "What? Why?"

"...It was ruined when... Well, two's company, but three's a crowd."

"Oh... I'm sorry."

Kise shrugged a little. "It's not like it's your fault," he said as he tapped at the base of his bedside lamp to turn it off. "These kinds of things are bound to happen when you expect too much." Kise hoped Kiyoshi would let it drop. When a few moments passed with no comment, he was relieved. "Good night, Kiyoshi-san."

He suddenly seemed fragile to him. Just something about the way the blanket draped over the curve of Kise's side made him seem small and like it hurt much more than he let on to say the words he'd just said. Not only would it be inappropriate, but it would probably seem more like pity than anything else if Kiyoshi gathered Kise into his arms right then. He didn't want that, so he turned his back to him and tried to let the urge fade into sleep right along with him. "...Good night, Kise."

## Going Places

Two weeks. They shared a bed for two weeks before they received notice that the mattress place was resuming appointment scheduling. But that was only the start; they fell into the last quarter of a queue two months long. Had they jumped on the first or even the third appointment that was offered to them, they would have been scheduled for a consultation with in the first week or so, but for one reason or another, they never seemed to have time to simply call to book it.

Neither of them could say whether they were relieved or disappointed that nothing more than good night wishes were exchanged each night. Meanwhile, they both wondered if their "unavoidable" delays in scheduling an appointment was apparent to the other. But fake setbacks weren't the only thing that happened since they started sleeping in the same bed.

It was rare for Kiyoshi to go more than a week without shooting and here it was, the end of spring and he hadn't shot anything since returning to Japan in January. Kiyoshi had an itchy shutter finger and decided to aim his lens at Kise. Never mind the fact that he never photographed people unless it was for money, but since Kise allowed it, he wasn't going to pass it up.

Having pictures taken of him when he first woke up was new, but it certainly wasn't the first time Kise found himself in front of a camera, though his modelling days seemed like a lifetime ago. He let Kiyoshi catch him at every angle and in every mood...except naked--not that he'd asked. However, after a while, Kise conjured up a baseless fear that if Kiyoshi continued to focus on him alone, he might get bored. So, to prolong the fascination, he offered Kiyoshi the opportunity to do some aerial photography and was pleased when Kiyoshi jumped at the chance.

The first time, they went up over Tokyo in a Cessna 172 and Kiyoshi was beside himself for the rest of the week. He couldn't wait to go again. "So...next week?

Kise looked up from his salmon burger. "What about it?" He licked the tarragon mayo he felt on the corner of his mouth.

Kiyoshi bracketed his eyes with his thumb and index finger on each side and crooked his right index finger while mimicking a rapid shutter sound.

"So, you had fun?"

"I told you as much."

"Yeah, how could I possibly forget you running around in circles on the tarmac laughing like a maniac?"

"Can't deny it. So...?"

"How's Tuesday and Friday?" He'd already set up the tours, but he just wanted Kiyoshi to ask about it. The child-like, giddy Kiyoshi he'd seen the past few days was so disgustingly endearing, Kise swore he'd succumb to cuteness overload any minute.

"Perfect!" With that settled, Kiyoshi sunk his teeth into his salmon burger. Aerial photography was something he'd always wanted to do, but he never seemed to be able to snag a gig that called for it. He could have done it in his free time on his own dime, but pilot and aircraft rental fees were nothing to sniff at. Now, on top of simply being able to do it, he was experiencing it with Kise--it was something he never knew he wanted until it happened.

Tuesday was another tour over Tokyo Metro, but Friday saw them soaring over Okinawa.

On their way back to their chauffeured car--in keeping with his company's policy which was that all travel to and from the private airport must be carried out in company owned and company driven vehicles, Kise had called his usual driver to ferry them back and forth--Kiyoshi, in his seemingly undying excitement and gratitude, ran up behind Kise, picked him up, and swung him around.

Even though Kise was caught off guard enough to go speechless, he started laughing and couldn't stop. "OhMyGod! Are you crazy?!" Kise managed as he tried to catch his breath. "If you don't put me down!"

Kiyoshi wasn't interested in obliging Kise, not at that moment, anyway. "What are you going to do?"

With his arms pressed to his sides, Kise hung about two feet off the ground. "What are you even doing?!"

"You seemed kind of bitter that I was the only one running in circles and laughing last week, so I thought I'd make up for it." Kiyoshi laughed as he ran in a circle a few times and then carried Kise to the car.

Kise thought he'd be more of a mess on the ride home, sitting in such close quarters after such a display, but he was unbelievably calm. Though, he considered that he might just be insane and could no longer tell. He took a deep breath and waved the thought away.

* * *

Kiyoshi ran up behind Kise and wrapped his arms around him--it had become his habit since Okinawa.

"Kiyoshi-san, I told you I can't work like this."

"But I wanted to thank you."

"You have... _so_ many times. I mean, I don't mind, but can you let me finish the dishes first?"

Kiyoshi rubbed his face against Kise's and squeezed him once more for good measure. "Thank you."

* * *

They sat on their usual ends of the sofa--Kise on the left with his tablet, going over his itinerary for the next week and Kiyoshi on the right with his laptop, cataloging his shots from the last two weeks.

"Do you want to try going up in a helicopter?" Kise asked, his eyes following his stylus.

Kiyoshi looked up from his screen. "Eh? You have a license for that, too?"

"Hm. It's a requirement at my level."

"Your level?"

"Yeah, I'm my company's 2nd lead trainer for Tokyo Metro."

"Eh? You train people?" Kiyoshi flinched when Kise's brow furrowed and the corners of his mouth turned farther down than Kiyoshi thought was physically possible for a face that seemed so suited to smiling.

 _Damnit! Him, too?!_ Kise thought. "What are you trying to say?"

"I didn't mean it as an offense, I was just surprised. You seem like you couldn't be bothered."

Kise put his tablet to sleep and turned to face Kiyoshi fully. "And what is that supposed to mean?" Kise did not want to go down this road with Kiyoshi. Anyone but him.

"I _mean_ ," Kiyoshi said, drawing out the word, turning in his spot, softening his gaze, and leaning in to emphasize his intent not to offend, "the entire time we've been together...here, I've only seen you talk to a handful of people: your mother, your sisters, your boss, and the concierge. I think we know most of the same people, but I've not once heard you mention anything about hanging out with them and the two times we both got an invitation from Kuroko, you opted out."

"So did you."

Kiyoshi shrugged. "I wanted to hang with you." It was a little unfair of him to throw that at Kise, but he was trying to make a point. "You also said that you 'don't do company.' So," he continued, smiling a little as he stretched his back, lazily working out a few kinks, "I thought that you weren't nearly as social as I assumed you were, and by extension, might be the kind of person who interacts with non-essential people as little as possible."

"...Oh, I see... Um..." Kise wasn't sure what to say. Kiyoshi wasn't entirely off the mark; in fact, he was probably more on the mark than the people Kise'd known much longer. "...Sorry about that." Kise tucked the corner of his bottom lip into his mouth and proceeded to gnaw on it as if he could chew his nervousness out of it.

"It's cool. So, you train?"

"...Yeah," Kise mumbled, looking down and feeling guilty for snapping at Kiyoshi.

"Hey, it's really cool. I guess I hit a nerve...? So, I'm sorry about that."

"You don't need to apologize; you didn't know."

"Mind telling me what set you off?"

Kise looked up; he searched Kiyoshi's face to see it if was really okay. It seemed to be. The concern of Kiyoshi's last question had settled in his eyes and Kise stared a while, trying to determine if he minded or not. If there was to be anything between then beyond what they had now, mind or not, he'd have to talk about it, but, "Maybe later."

"Okay, but I want to know so I can try to avoid upsetting you, so don't think you can say 'maybe later' and I'll forget."

"I promise. We can talk about it later."

They got off track a bit and Kiyoshi wanted to steer them back without being too obvious about it since Kise still looked a little peeved. "So, do you like training?" he asked as he grabbed his bottle of water off of the coffee table. Keeping an easy, no pressure air about himself, Kiyoshi unscrewed the cap and downed half of it before slowing down to a few lazy sips before eventually putting it back.

"I don't mind it," Kise said. He watched Kiyoshi's Adam's apple jump with each glug. "But it was initially a compromise."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. About four years ago, I was offered the responsibility of heading up the Mediterranean region because I could get by on French and Italian."

"You've got quite the tongue."

"Wha-What?"

Always down for accidental innuendos, Kiyoshi snorted and licked at the smile that broke across his face. "You're a polyglot."

Kise's confusion dissolved into a smile of his own and he couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Why didn't you take the position?"

"I like flying and I like being based in Japan and I would have pretty much had to give up both if I took it."

"You stayed, but you couldn't just continue flying like you were?"

"Since our roster of clients leans heavily in a particular direction, Operations likes to move people around to keep people friendly, but not familiar. There's a few of us holding, but, for the most part, staff gets shuffled around every two to three months."

"'Holding'?"

"When someone has stayed at a particular branch for more than a year, we say they're in a holding pattern. You know, like a plane?"

"Ah, I get it. So, sorry for the detour, but yeah, I'd definitely like to shoot from a helicopter. When can we go?"

Kise woke his tablet up and reviewed his schedule. "I'll be gone next week, so how about the Wednesday after I get back?"

Kiyoshi grabbed Kise's arm as if Kise was about to slip away from him and there was a whisper of panic in his voice. "Gone? Where are you going?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I thought this update was going to be the last chapter. Silly me...


	4. Returning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sort of. I have been plugging away at this chapter for some time, life just keeps getting in the way. Initially, I planned for this to be the last chapter, but today, after getting an awesome message from makuramotou, I decided that I'd written enough words to come to a stopping point and chapter 5 can come later. So, here is the long overdue chapter 4. Please enjoy and check out the loveliest fan art for Drifting from chapter 1, courtesy of makuramotou! https://www.instagram.com/p/BKkU2gehwzw/

## Unfinished Business

The so called lifelines, stretching, breaking, radiating in braids and lonesome strands across his hand revealed nothing of where Kiyoshi found himself at this juncture of his nearly 40 years. Forty... He was closer to it than he was 30.

He watched as his fingers curled into the palm of his hand, covering the trails that were said to illustrate the map of a person's existence. Kiyoshi's fingers unfolded in a flourish. He studied the deep creases, not that he knew anything about reading them, but he studied them anyway, hoping to find the point at which it was foretold that he would hurt Kise. Maybe, if he found it, he could erase the line that continued on from that point. It was too late to go back. Too late to take the flash of anger and fear out of Kise's eyes, but maybe he could stop it from happening again.

* * *

It was impossible. Really. There was no mark or bruise to prove the sudden hold Kiyoshi had taken of his arm, but Kise could, even after three days, still feel the heat of Kiyoshi's large hand pressing into him, reminding him of things he tried hard not to remember. And it was only for a moment. Kise wasn't in the mood--as if there was such a thing--to explain his reaction. Even if Kiyoshi hadn't seen the look Kise knew had to be in his eyes at the time, he couldn't hide the way he yanked his arm away.

When Kise offered no explanation before moving on with the conversation, he not only ensured that there would be distance between them, but he also lost the opportunity to ask why Kiyoshi seemed so desperate at the thought of him leaving in the first place. Whether Kiyoshi understood that Kise didn't want to talk about it or if whatever was at the heart of Kiyoshi's own reaction kept him from asking, Kise was grateful that he dodged what would have undoubtedly been a very ugly coming apart.

The following days, the two days before Kise left, were uneventful. Kiyoshi didn't sleep in the bed the night of the incident and when he returned, he didn't sleep at all. The sofa had not grown, but the distance between their claimed corners may as well have been that of the distance from Earth to Pluto.

Kiyoshi was out when Kise left and Kise could only wonder if he would be there when he got back. If not for Kise, then maybe for the promise of a helicopter tour over Hokkaido. It was a silly thought, but he allowed himself to think it. Since there wasn't much else to be done about the situation until he got back home, he figured a trivial hope like that wouldn't hurt.

Kise liked his job, loved it actually, but sometimes it could be really inconvenient and trying. Since the three runs he had that week were to return the favors for the flight time and fleet usage for Kiyoshi's photo shoots, he wasn't too mad about them, but he wasn't in the mood for what they called "night runs." He was one step below full security clearance, so he knew that he was one of the few pilots that could even take these jobs on, but they were inherently dangerous and with so much left undone back home, Kise just didn't have the proper focus to cosign on his own safe return.

Night runs were limited to two types of cargo: active and inert. Animal or mineral. Neither were ideal, either could be a bomb, both required the pilot to be armed, but only one could drive Kise into the depths of insanity.

Kise's transformation from life of the party to part-time misanthrope was so gradual that it took a few years before he even realized that he had changed. His friends didn't exactly mean well, but he was sure they had no idea how constantly being the butt of their jokes rubbed him in the rawest of ways. Add to that a disaster of a too-long relationship that made him question everything and an unhealthy dose of general loathing and you got Kise as he was now: short tempered--not that anyone got much chance to witness it because he avoided drama like a deadly swarm--generally apathetic, and lonely in a way that felt comfortable, but only because it had been the one constant in his life for longer than he cared to remember.

The one thing that kept Kise from making full-time on the misanthropy was Kiyoshi. Much like his slow, downward spiral, Kiyoshi's presence and meaning in his life had grown at such a pace that he didn't realize it was happening and when he finally did, he wasn't sure what to make of it because it felt like whatever it was he'd brought to his life had always been there.

The last run's cargo was threatening to override all of that and push him straight into misanthropic overtime. The first two runs went off without a hitch. He slept in the mornings, waited for the calls, logged into the flight plan app for confirmation, picked up, delivered, and chilled for two days. Inert cargo, both. Everyone was on time, no one talked to him and he made it back to his hideout unscathed.

Night runs, though they are called, could be carried out any time of the day. The final pickup was active cargo. A man, about Kise's height, a little older with a practiced swagger and an undying need to spew bullshit whenever he thought someone was within earshot and to pretend like he was on the phone when someone was not. This was the most dangerous type of cargo because all his grandstanding could easily put himself and Kise in danger. And with Kise's impaired focus, the littlest thing was liable to throw the whole job off course.

* * *

He knew it was all in his head, but Kise's bed had been impossibly uncomfortable since he left. After the second night, Kiyoshi gave up and went back the the guest room and made do with the futon. Most of the stuff Kise cleared out came from the closet, so it didn't make much difference in the way the room looked, but a few of the things were cleared from the shelves over the desk. Remaining were a slew of trophies, a dozen or so plaques, and three pictures. The framed images were on the lowest shelf, so they were easy to see from Kiyoshi's spot on the floor. He often found himself staring at them, trying to figure Kise's relationship with the other people in them.

The picture that drew Kiyoshi's attention the most was one that looked to be of his early days in the Air Self-Defense Force. Kise stood in the middle of a line of five guys all donning flight suits. The smirking airman to his immediate left, a guy about Kise's height, had his arm around last guy and Kise's shoulders and Kise had his arm around the guy's waist. Kise was smiling, beaming actually, but rather than facing the camera, he was looking up about three or four inches into the eyes of the guy on his right. It was easy to see from the guy's face that he returned whatever feelings Kise had for him.

With things left the way they were, a vague sense of jealousy settled over Kiyoshi. It wasn't a clear-cut feeling because the guy, whoever he was, wasn't around, but to have Kise's attention to such an extent and to know it for sure, well, it made Kiyoshi a little envious. He wasn't sure where they stood now. Kise had shut down before he left and though his manner was friendly, it brooked no room for discussion. Kiyoshi could only oblige.

It had been nearly a week since Kise left and Kiyoshi hadn't heard from him. He did say that communication was likely to be difficult, but Kiyoshi still worried. Not so much about them, though. Something indistinct, but significant all the same, allowed Kiyoshi to believe that they'd work out whatever wedge had been shoved between them. It was the reason for the radio silence that concerned him. They never spoke about it outright, but from the locations they'd been to that they'd revealed to each other, Kiyoshi knew Kise's work, like his own, often landed him in the middle of some unsavory places and had him keeping company to match.

As far as Kiyoshi was aware, Kise was working for the same company when they started their correspondence. And it was obvious he'd always come home. But things had changed between them and he couldn't help but wonder if this time would be the same.

* * *

"If you wouldn't bleed all over my cockpit, I'd shoot you." Kise said in a flat tone that made his passenger pale even more than the fire fight they were narrowly escaping as they flew away from the eastern tip of Timor. There were only two guys on the ground, but one of them had terrific aim.

It would have been different if Kise's distracted mind put them in hot water, but since it was the fault of his cargo who he'd warned sternly and repeatedly to cut the chatter, the patience he had reserved for this last run had died out in a cloud of multilingual profanity. He bit down on his bottom lip, doing his best to ignore the flesh wound on his right shoulder. Even though the gunman was hardly close enough, his shoulder burned like gun's muzzle was pressed against his skin when it fired. But the pain would have to wait at least until his expertly carried out evasive aerial maneuvers brought the plane free and clear.

A little over an hour later Kise managed a nearly impossible landing on the hilly terrain of Kisar. Before running off to find a pointman, Kise chained his cargo to his seat and threatened that if he so much as sneezed, he really would shoot him and then make him clean up the blood. Needless to say, Mr. Loudmouth was as still and quiet as the dead.

Detours and delays were the worst and not just for Kise. Most runs were planned down to the minute, so if one player missed a connection or a hand-off, all the ones that followed would be delayed as well. Some could still go with minor adjustments, while others required extensive rescheduling, or worse, some had to be cancelled altogether. Those were the ones Kise hated the most, especially if his part came in after the plans were derailed; for many of those, he wouldn't get paid. Not that he was living check to check by any means, but his battery of skills and reputation for discretion made his time extremely valuable in his line of work and he felt that it was only right that he be compensated. But this pit stop couldn't be avoided; with the plane sporting holes in its fuselage from before takeoff, Kise didn't want to risk the six-hour flight over the Timor Sea. He hadn't been anywhere in Indonesia for at least three years, so there was no telling if any of his contacts were still around. Kise could only hope.

## He Say, He Say

Kise closed his flat door behind him and shut out the world. He threw his bag on top of the shoe cabinet and leaned against the closed door, closing his eyes and sighing as an envelope that was displaced by his bag slipped to the floor. It was good to be home. His lungs filled to capacity as he breathed in deeply--sandalwood filling his nostrils. And just like that, all the frustration and the tension from the past two days melted away allowing him to expel the air patiently.

Right shoe, left shoe, off. _Sleep is a thing_ , Kise thought. His eyes fluttered open and he made to look towards his room, but before they focused on his next stop, they glided across the crimson striped mitsumatagami envelope that landed a few inches away from him. Suddenly the significance of the sandalwood clicked, and he swept up the letter as he stumbled down the hall calling out to Kiyoshi.

There was no answer.

Kise leaned against the post of his bedroom door. His legs gave out and he slid to the floor. He traced the gold ink lines that spelled out his name, wondering what they prefaced.

* * *

Kiyoshi stood in the doorway of the Kise's guestroom. After a 10-hour flight, he was more than ready to crash, but, well, at the moment he couldn't. The scene before him begged so many questions. The t-shirt he spent an hour looking for before he left three days ago. The futon he was sure he put away before he left. The pillow he used when he slept in Kise's bed which was still on Kise's bed when he left. The letter he wrote before he left. And in the midst of the evidence of his stay, the guy that hadn't returned home before he left--on his back, red-faced, sleeping.

* * *

A groan broke Kiyoshi's train of thought. His attention floated to his flatmates sleeping form and he studied it. He went up on his elbow and waited to see what would happen.

Kise slid his hand under his pillow, groping for his phone. He pulled it out, woke it up, looked at the time, and decided that he didn't need to get up just yet. It wasn't like he had anywhere to be or anyone to see. He rolled to his right, twisting the sleeveless shirt he wore about his torso. Pain spiked across his shoulder, up his neck, and behind his ear as air hissed through his teeth when he attempted to settle in, his right shoulder rejecting the idea completely. Kise tried left and found that to be a pain-free direction. Moreover, there was a pleasantly woodsy-scented warmth on that side that he wanted nothing more than to burrow into. So he did and then promptly fell back to sleep.

Kiyoshi chuckled.

The next time Kise woke up it was with a start. He was warm. Comfortably so. But too warm for not being under a blanket. He looked up and met with a slightly worried, mostly happy, but overwhelmingly exhausted gaze.

"Hey sleepy face." Kiyoshi whispered as he brushed Kise's hair back.

Kise stared. When he felt the weight of Kiyoshi's hand on his neck and the drag of Kiyoshi's thumb along his jaw, he closed his eyes and forced himself to be centered in that moment, to become corporeally aware. He could feel his legs and his arms and his fingers and his toes and his heart beating in his chest. He was warm and sensed that vague pull of gravity on everything his skin was wrapped around. This was not a dream.

"Did you go back to sleep?"

"Kise's eyes flashed with presence of mind and surprise. "Kiyoshi-san?" He pressed his hands, which were between them, against Kiyoshi's chest.

"Yeah?"

"Kiyoshi-san?"

"Yeah?" Kiyoshi laughed, nearly muffling the inflection of inquiry in his tone, his smile breaking wider as Kise's hands set about corroborating what his eyes beheld.

"You...came back?" He asked, unbelieving even as his palms cradled Kiyoshi's face.

"I said as much."

"When?!" Kise whined as he gripped the front of the fuchsia polo shirt that smelled like heaven to him. "I didn't even know you left!"

Confused, Kiyoshi cut his eyes to the striped envelope on the edge of the futon. "Didn't you read my letter?"

"Uhh..." Kise worried his bottom lip and shot a glance over his shoulder and then buried his face in his hands. "No..."

"Why not?"

If he could dig a hole into the futon, into the floor, drop into his downstairs neighbor's flat and run away, he would. Kise arrived home about 20 minutes to midnight the day before and had spent the better part of the time since preparing himself for the goodbye he knew was in the envelope. Utterly enervated by the effort, he collapsed right after lunch. But with Kiyoshi there, present, right in front of him, Kise felt like a grade-A idiot.

Kiyoshi stretched past Kise to grab the letter. It was just out of reach, so he stretched a bit further, rolling Kise with him. Now on top of Kise, whose hands were still covering his face, he playfully slapped the envelope across Kise's knuckles and asked again. "Why not?"

"I was scared."

It was cute, Kise hiding, but Kiyoshi really wanted to see his face.

"Ah!" Kise's hands went quickly for his side. "Don't poke me!"

"I want to see you."

"Kiyoshi-san..." Kise pouted, unaware of the blush creeping across his cheeks.

That bottom lip was calling Kiyoshi, begging to sucked and nibbled. _Focus!_ "What were you scared of?"

The light switch, the closet door, the mark on the ceiling from when he flipped a bottle cap and it got stuck, that one notch in the wall-mounted shelving that looked the same as all the others but was too small for the bracket that was supposed to fit. Anything thing would do to hold Kise's attention, so long as he didn't have to look Kiyoshi in the eye.

"Hey," Kiyoshi said as he poked Kise on the other side. An action he soon regretted. Kise jerked up with a shout and too quickly for Kiyoshi to dodge. "Oh...my...god..." Kiyoshi managed through the blinding pain, his fingertips steepling over the bridge of his nose, his voice sounding nasal as a result. "Your...head is...uhh... Good grief."

Kise palmed his forehead, redness from the pain and embarrassment rushing to his ears and down his neck. He turned over to look down at Kiyoshi who had rolled away. "But I _told you_ not to poke me. I should be laughing at you right now, only it looks like it hurts." He nudged one of Kiyoshi's hands. "Let me see."

Kiyoshi opened his eyes, but quickly shut them when he saw two red-faced Kises. "Ughhh..."

"Is it broken?"

"It should be, your head is hard, man... Why couldn't it be the other one?"

"Everybody's head is hard. Are you going to move your hands or not?"

Kiyoshi stayed his tongue while Kise caught up.

"Wa-Wait?! What did you just-- Kiyoshi- _san_!"

"I'm just saying," he licked his lips, "if there's going to be a hard one, I have my preferences."

Kise's jaw dropped and the blush that had begun to fade returned full force. There was no way he could misinterpret _that_ , right? But damn, he'd barely gotten over the fact that Kiyoshi hadn't left for good, he wasn't sure if he could deal with the truth of those words yet. "Kiyoshi-san..." Kise shook his head. "Your hands..."

His hands slid away and he braced himself for Kise's touch. "Be gentle."

He was still hesitant to believe this was flirting, but what else could it be? "K-Kiyoshi-san, _please_."

"I aim to."

"Kiyoshi-san..." Kise sighed, fingers hovering above the bridge of Kiyoshi's nose. "I'm going to touch you now."

Kiyoshi tucked in his lips and closed his eyes as he tried to stop himself from laughing. It was uncomfortable, but he thought that laughing outright would have hurt more.

"Ha. Ha. Can you be serious?"

Kiyoshi's brow unfurrowed, his jaw relaxed, and he forced the smirk out the corner of his mouth by flattening his lips. "I already told you, I'm always serious."

"Yeah, yeah... Alright," Kise said as he moved in. "Tell me if the this hur--"

Kiyoshi snorted as he tried once again to contain his laughter, but the pressure made his nose throb. "HaAOwww!"

"I'm trying to see if you're alright and you're just-- You're... What _are_ you doing? I can't keep up with you! Are you flirting with me or making fun of me?!"

"Flirt output is definitely on high... and I might be poking fun, too." His lips twitched as he tried to maintain a serious expression.

Kise shook a fist in Kiyoshi's face.

"On second thought, poking has proven to be hazardous to my health, so just flirting, I guess," Kiyoshi concluded, his tone deceptively contemplative.

"You _guess_?" He really couldn't keep up; it was like a random mood playlist dealing with Kiyoshi. It was nerve-wracking and often exhausting, but...somehow... it aggravated him in the most pleasing of ways. However, on occasion, Kise could give as good as he got. "Well I _guess_ I'm just going to poke around your face and see what happens." Kise snickered when Kiyoshi winced, but moved right ahead, pressing into his cheeks and his chin with exaggerated movements. When he believed that his point had been made, Kise switched to applying light pressure to the area around Kiyoshi's eyes and worked his way towards the bridge of his nose. "How's that?"

"It hurts, but I can breathe and," he sniffed, "it's not bleeding. ...I don't have a black eye, do I?" Kise shook his head. "So," Kiyoshi said as he sat up, "it's not broken."

"Okay, but let's put some ice on it anyway?" Kise turned to get up, ostensibly to get ice, but Kiyoshi tugged at his shorts.

"The ice can wait. You still haven't answered my question. What were you scared of?"

Still facing away from Kiyoshi, Kise sighed and then tried to explain. "I... uhh..." He sighed again. "...After what happened before I left, or really, a lot of things up to that point... When I saw the letter, I thought it was a goodbye and I didn't... I didn't want to make it true just yet."

"Can we talk about that?"

"It's not really--"

"You know," Kiyoshi interrupted, "it was really awkward right before you left. I didn't know what I did to make you shut down like that. ...Well, that's not quite right. I assume that me grabbing your arm was a bad idea and I'm really sorry about that. I didn't mean to hurt you. I panicked--"

"Panicked?" Kise asked over his shoulder.

"Yeah," Kiyoshi said, mostly to himself as his elbow rested on his knee to support his chin that had settled his palm. "I don't know how to put why into words, but I know it has a lot to do with the fact that I... like you, Kise and I came here hoping that you liked me too."

Kise turned slowly to see Kiyoshi's face. Unable to make his mouth work right then, he just stared.

"I know you said not to stand on ceremony and you've been pretty welcoming since I got here, but I've been struggling with what that really means."

"It means that I want you to be here." Oh, good, looks like his mouth is working again.

Kiyoshi dragged his hands down his face and hissed when he put too much weight on his nose. "I get that, but see, before I came, I was feeling kind of lost, adrift--no oar, no anchor. They only came once a year, but your letters made me feel like I was still moored somehow."

"S-Same here." The blush returned with a faint pink dappling high on Kise's cheeks.

"Really?" Kiyoshi asked as he leaned forward, his hands bracing him in front of Kise.

"Yeah, really. Most of the year I felt like I was flying blind and attempting to land with my wheels still up, but your letters never failed to keep me safely grounded while still feeling like I was on cloud 9." The pink bloomed and Kise's skin assumed a warm rosy glow.

"Well, that's a relief. I was so worried." Kiyoshi said, slouching. "I've been living for June for the past few years and while it kept me together, I thought it was unfair to burden you with that, especially without your consent."

"But, Kiyoshi-san, I--"

"Just..." He was nervous, but found a modicum of comfort in following the paths on his palm. Up went a silent prayer that his next words would steer him in a direction he wouldn't regret. "I don't have anyone." Kiyoshi's gaze caught Kise's and the silence stretched between them. Before it went on too long, his eyes fell back on his hands that continued to fidget. "I have friends, yeah, but they have their own lives and family and all that stuff. I know it probably sounds pathetic, but I want someone to be just mine."

Kise slid his hand across the futon toward Kiyoshi, but stopped short when Kiyoshi continued.

"I don't want to lock you up or anything. I don't want to keep you from your friends or your family. Nothing like that. I just want to be the only one." Kiyoshi cleared his throat and then lifted his head to face Kise. "When I got back today and saw you lying here with my letter and my shirt and my pillow..." A small smile played on his lips at the crimson that was making its way down Kise's chest and arms. "I'd already thought-- I had hoped that you had feelings for me that leaned towards the romantic, but after seeing that, I don't know what else I'm supposed to think. So, if your feelings _are_  of the romantic variety, I want to be the only one you feel that way about."

"Kiyoshi-san..." Whatever else the nervous guy in front of him had to say, Kise didn't need to hear it, not really. Because, no matter what, his answer was going to be _yes_. But he could see that it was important for Kiyoshi to speak his piece, so he made that the last interruption.

"I don't need an anchor--life is livable without one, but I want you to be mine and I want be yours." Kiyoshi paused when it seemed like Kise had something to say, but when nothing came, he continued. "I know what I'm asking for is a lot. I know what I'm asking for is selfish and I know I should have made my intentions clear sooner and I'm sorry for that, but before you say anything, please take time to think about it because, in addition to what amounts to owning a part of me, saying _yes_ also means that you don't get out of explaining things like what happened last week and," Kiyoshi pointed at the bandage on Kise's shoulder, "that thing there."

Kise slapped his shoulder to cover it up having completely forgotten about it. He wavered, his eyes rolling back as he nearly passed out from the pain he'd just inflicted on himself.

"Heh. Anyway, please consider your answer carefully."

Ignoring the pain still radiating down his arm, Kise made to close the distance between himself and Kiyoshi. Somewhat timidly, he came to rest on his knees in between Kiyoshi's long legs, but more assuredly that he expected of himself, he placed his hands on either side of Kiyoshi's face. Kiyoshi eyed him curiously. "There's nothing left to consider." Kise said as he locked eyes with Kiyoshi, unflinching.

"Kise--"

"You've had your say, Kiyoshi-san. Saying _yes_ also means that I get to have mine."

Kiyoshi's eyebrow went into a high arch as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth to hold back a laugh.

"Two and a half years... I was at war with myself for two and a half years. I felt guilty when I realized that my feelings for you had changed. I also thought I had to be crazy to be sexually aroused by pen strokes on paper..."

"But it was nice paper, right?"

"Yes," Kise said with a placating sigh, "the paper was nice, Kiyoshi-san, beautiful, even." Kiyoshi grinned from ear to ear and then made a playful gesture of zipping his lips. Kise wanted to pop him in his gorgeous face, but he just squeezed it and picked up when he left off instead. "For two and a half years I've been wanting you, wanting to be there for you, but I thought it was just my arrogance that made me believe that I could be your place to come back to, so I'd be some kind of hypocrite if I faulted you for anything, so don't apologize."

Kiyoshi raised his hands to cover Kise's and they sat like that for a while, just quietly taking each other in. He traced the prominent veins running up Kise's arms and watched as a chill slinked up his spine, triggering a warm blush that rose slowly up from Kise's chest to his ears. The feel of soft skin over hard muscle sent shivers coiling around his own spine. "So... What are you saying?"

Kise pulled Kiyoshi's hands into his lap and inched closer. "I'm saying, if you want me to keep you moored and I want you to keep me grounded, there's no reason we can't both get what we want."

Kiyoshi nodded slowly in agreement.

"I'm also saying, I have a lot of feelings for you, Kiyoshi-san, and if you have a lot of feelings for me, all the better." He sat back and supported himself with his elbows behind him and his legs out in front, almost mirroring Kiyoshi's pose. "So, what do you say?"

Kiyoshi thought for a moment. "I say..." Disfavoring the space between them, he leaned forward.

Kise resisted the urge to lean back, though if he went much farther, he'd be lying down.

"It's not _if_... I have a lot of feelings for you, Kise." Now on all fours, Kiyoshi leaned in again, further diminishing the gap. "I say that two and a half years is a lot to make up for. I say that now would be a good time to start." Finally hovering over Kise whose breath had quickened due to their proximity, he continued, "I say, I'm going to kiss you, Kise."

"No!" Kise's voice pitched high and hysterical, "I haven't brushed my teeth!"

Kiyoshi laughed and bowed his head into the crook of Kise's neck, finding it a perfect fit. "I don't care."

Kise squirmed. "But I doooo!"

"Then," Kiyoshi skimmed the tip of his nose up the muscle that ran from Kise's collarbone to right behind his ear, letting the feel of Kise's skin override the discomfort and soreness, "can I kiss here?"

"Well..." Kise moaned as Kiyoshi's heat seeped into him. They weren't touching him, but he could feel Kiyoshi's lips hovering right above the sensitive spot beneath his earlobe. "I... that would be... okay, I g--"

Kiyoshi didn't wait, couldn't wait. He puckered his lips, effectively closing the scant centimeter between them and Kise's skin. He savored the pulse he found there. A trail of tiny kisses along Kise's jaw line were punctuated with requests for permission. Kise's answer manifested in his head tilting a little more each time to give Kiyoshi greater access. What seemed to be the last kiss landed on the corner of Kise's mouth and by then, Kiyoshi could tell that Kise just might grant him anything.

Kise stared dazedly into the warm and mischievous brown eyes that were drinking him in. The feel of Kiyoshi's lips lingered and he wanted more, so when their mouths were aligned and Kiyoshi asked one last "here" Kise gave in. He braced himself for a bruising kiss because Kiyoshi looked _that_ hungry for him, but to his surprise he found himself melting under the slow and deliberate swipes of Kiyoshi's tongue across the landscape of his mouth.

Mapping the inside of Kise's mouth, committing each ridge, curve, swell, and dip to memory. Kiyoshi acquainted himself with the sometimes soft, sometimes firm quality of Kise's tongue. He sucked on it, teethed at it, and sucked on it again, pulling back a little each time so that Kise would chase him. And each time Kise caught him, he would smile against his lips.

Kise pulled at the hem of his shirt as he squirmed beneath Kiyoshi who held the rest of himself away from him. He didn't know why, but their lips were the only parts of them that were touching. It was maddening. But there was no way he was going to stop... Kiyoshi tasted _so_ good. It was nothing he could define, but it was the most incredible flavor to every grace his tongue. He whimpered in appreciation.

"Kise," Kiyoshi said, quietly, almost reverently as he pulled back again, this time all the way, "you are...delicious." He dipped in to catch Kise's bottom lip. "Oh, man... I'm in trouble."

His whole body shook as he tried not to laugh right into Kiyoshi mouth. "You're one to talk... What are you made of?"

Kiyoshi was less concerned and made zero attempts to curb his laugh. Although he abandoned Kise's lips, he didn't stop kissing him. A winding course of open-mouth kisses and nips ended at Kise's collar bone. At which point Kiyoshi quickly learned was an especially sensitive area. Too bad for Kise that it leaned more toward ticklish than it did arousing.

"Oh my god! STOP!" Kise tried to escape from under Kiyoshi, but was blocked at every turn. "Whyyyyy?!"

Kiyoshi looked up, the tip of his tongue taking up residence in the corner of his mouth and his eyes taking on a look of pure innocence. "Huh?"

"Kiyoshi-san! You're so mean!" Kise managed between heaving breaths.

"Why do you say that?"

"Why?! We were kissing! And it was hot! You can't just switch up and start playing around!"

"No?"

"Kiyoshi-san!"

Kiyoshi dove in to pepper Kise's neck and face with more kisses. "You can drop the san."

"Wha--" Kise arched into a particularly hard kiss. "But--"

Kiyoshi pressed his lips against Kise's ear and reveled in the chill that ripped through the man beneath him. "I just had my tongue down your throat and there so many other places I plan to shove it," he shifted his position to look at Kise, eyes dark with lust "so I think we can do without the honorific."

Kise bit his lip. Just the thought of Kiyoshi's tongue in other places nearly sent him over the edge. His eyes flickered up and caught the fire in Kiyoshi's, pushing him ever closer to the edge, but, without warning, Kiyoshi smiled and his expression softened into one that almost looked sad or maybe relieved. And the edge suddenly receded into the distance when Kiyoshi gathered him up into a suffocating embrace. "K-Kiyoshi-san...?"

"Heh." The laugh was low and just a bit self-conscious. "...Don't mind me. I just... Well, kissing is great, but, more than anything, for the longest time, I've just want to hold you..."

It was so sweet, Kise thought he just might cry. He returned the gesture and a tear really did fall when he felt Kiyoshi sigh a sigh of deep relief.

## Kiss & Tell

"Well, if they were pins in a map, you'd easily see what I'm into. And I'm pretty sure your map looks a lot like mine." Kiyoshi projected his voice towards the kitchen.

Kise dried his hands on the towel next to the kitchen sink and walked to the archway that lead to the living room. He leaned against the post and stared at his boyfriend. His boyfriend! Was this real life? He almost didn't know what to do with himself. But only almost. Because he knew he could do something like... walk over to the sofa where his _boyfriend_ sat and settle himself on his lap.

Kiyoshi smiled as Kise made himself comfortable. "Hello."

"Hello, boyfriend."

Snorting still reminded Kiyoshi that his face did, in fact, collide with Kise's earlier that day--and not in a sexy way--so he tried not to, but he couldn't help it. "I won't let your cuteness distract me."

"I don't think you have a choice."

"Where did the nervous guy with the tell-tale blush go?"

"Who is that? I have no idea what you're talking about."

Kiyoshi looked around, his hand resting on his brow, shielding his eyes as if he were looking out over a crowd

"What are you looking for?"

"The shop attendant."

"The wha--"

"I want to get a refund. The display model was so much cuter that this cheeky version that I ended up with." Kiyoshi said as he took Kise's cheeks in hand and squeezed.

"Ha! All sales final!" It came out distorted as his lips were puckered from Kiyoshi's hold. "You're stuck with me!"

Kiyoshi side-dipped Kise onto the sofa and crawled over him, catching him completely off guard. "Speaking of being stuck," he said between a few light kisses, "can we stick to the conversation?"

Kise pouted, disappointed that the innuendo he was hoping for wasn't delivered. "Do we have to talk about such unsavory things? Aren't we supposed to be in like...the honeymoon stage or something?"

"We can be as deep in it as you want once we get this out of the way."

Kise tried to stall a bit longer. "Kiss me and then we'll talk."

"I don't think you want to do that."

Kise lifted his head up until his lips meet Kiyoshi's. "I think do."

"Alright, have it your way." Kiyoshi kissed him back and pulled Kise's arms around his neck.

The kiss was slow and sweet like their first one...at first, but the careful and deliberate soon gave way to something much more aggressive. Kise felt Kiyoshi's full weight on him and he yielded to it as his mouth was devoured. Kiyoshi was relentless. Kise tried to tap out so that he could catch his breath, but Kiyoshi only kissed and sucked harder. The heat continued to build between them and Kise was was struggling to keep up. Not to mention, he desperately needed to adjust himself before he got any harder. When Kiyoshi pulled back a little, he tried, "Kiyo--"

Wanting, but refusing to address the throbbing thickness pulsing against his hip, Kiyoshi cut him off with another hard kiss. His hands found their way into Kise's hair, fingertips digging into his scalp. He tugged at the blond locks in his grip, exposing the tender skin of Kise's neck and his convulsing Adam's apple.

There were sounds coming out of Kise's mouth, but that's all they were...sounds. Coherent speech and thought had failed him. He writhed and bucked and arched, pinned under Kiyoshi, under the heat and presence of this man who was effortlessly turning him into a mess. A breathless, quivering, yearning mess.

And just like that, Kiyoshi stopped. He sat up and licked his lips thoughtfully. "Okay, let's talk."

Kise stared up at Kiyoshi, panting, his face a mask of incredulity.

Kiyoshi shrugged. " _You_ wanted a kiss."

* * *

Kise sat cross-legged with his arms folded across his chest in his corner of the sofa. He wanted to spend the rest of the day making out, but his _boyfriend_ wanted to be all adult-like and talk about important stuff. "Important stuff", his job especially, was a subject he'd rather not go near. He'd long ago realized that Kiyoshi traveled in similar circles, so it wasn't like he had anything to be ashamed of, but work was work and he came home to get away from it. Also, his body was hot and tingling and his cock ached, unable to release. He wanted to complain, but that would be nothing but embarrassing. He wasn't some teenager on his first time out; he was mad and amazed that Kiyoshi managed to get him so worked up with only kissing. Granted, the kisses were outrageous, but they were still just kisses. And seeing Kiyoshi looking no worse for the wear only irritated Kise even more.

Kiyoshi's head tilted and he studied the man to his left. Since he'd started staying with Kise, they'd naturally adopted their "places". Kise sat on the left side of the sofa, slept on the right side of the bed, and ate at the table with his back to the window and his gaze focused on the door. It was only recently that he learned that, with the exception of where Kise ate, his sides were accommodations for Kiyoshi. He continued the appreciation of the man to his left who sat looking like a punished child. _Amazing._  Kise was kind, generous, cute, funny, intelligent, sexy, spoiled, and possibly a ruthless killer. Kiyoshi wondered how'd he gotten so lucky.

The fuchsia polo shirt from earlier was great, but Kise much preferred the sleeveless t-shirt Kiyoshi had changed into; it showed off his perfectly sculpted arms and the jersey knit was just clingy enough that he could make out a bit of the definition of Kiyoshi's pects and abs. It was nice to look at, though it was doing nothing for the ache that lingered and the heat that continued to surround him like a cloak. Kise sighed. Moping about it wasn't doing anything either. He contemplated his situation for a moment and looked at Kiyoshi. He wanted to be wrapped those arms, held against that chest. Kiyoshi had only put the brakes on making out--he said nothing about touching, right?

Kiyoshi sat with his chin propped up on his knee. He stared straight ahead, but caught Kise pondering in his periphery. He mumbled to himself, "To hell with sides."

Kise was trying to formulate a convincing appeal to get Kiyoshi to hold him when he was suddenly lifted off of his end of the sofa and onto Kiyoshi's lap, and into his arms. "Wha--" Kise choked, blushing almost as fiercely as he had been earlier.

Kiyoshi shifted, allowing Kise to settle between his legs and lean back against him. "You were too far away."

"Seriously can't keep up with you," Kise hesitated for the briefest of moments, "Kiyoshi." The name felt like a spell on his tongue, as if repeating it would bring about wondrous things. Kise laughed to himself at the difference between now and the first time he attempted to say it. Had it already been four months since then?

A warmth spread throughout him at the sound of his name. He gently turned Kise's head to face him and brushed his bangs away from his face. "Don't worry, I won't leave you behind."

Kise regarded Kiyoshi for a moment before turning away and mumbling something about Kiyoshi being too cool.

Kiyoshi either didn't hear him or chose to ignore him. "So..." he started. "Tell me about last week"

He really didn't want to talk about any of this, but he knew they needed to, so he tried to convince himself that he could get through this. "Last week was... And I'm sorry for not explaining sooner, but my ex became abusive towards the end of our relationship."

Kiyoshi slipped his arms under Kise's and wrapped them around him.

Suddenly feeling safer, Kise continued. "I guess things started when I got the promotion he wanted. I thought he'd be happy since it meant that I'd stay in Japan, but I guess not. At first it was just a few petty remarks here and there and I just thought they were bad days, you know? But it started happening more often." Kise sighed.

It angered him to think that someone could be treated like that, but when it was someone as giving and caring as Kise, Kiyoshi thought it was all the more despicable. He nuzzled into Kise's hair.

Kise smiled. "I probably should have ended it then, but I didn't and it only got worse. He used to defend me when we hung out with my friends because they were always mocking me or teasing for one thing or another, but he started joining in. I should have ended it then, too, but I didn't."

"Why?"

"Um... Complacency? Familiarity? I'm used to being the butt of the joke, so one more person didn't really matter. And maybe a little bit of fear."

Kiyoshi's anger only increased. His jaw was tight and his voice was low. "Of...?" 

"I... I was afraid of being alone. But I got over that."

"So how or why did it finally end?"

"One day I noticed that it all stopped. And rather than going back to normal, he went over the top with being nice and attentive, but sometimes I'd catch him looking really sad when he thought I wasn't looking. The pampering and whatnot was nice at first, but soon I felt like I was being bribed, so I called him out on it and that whole melancholy thing he had going on." A rush of air escaped Kise's mouth and he let his head fall forward. "Being right isn't everything. So it turned out that on his last visit to his doctor, he found out that he was losing his sight. He admitted that he knew he'd been mean to me and he was trying to make up for it, hoping I wouldn't leave him when I found about his deteriorating vision."

"I'm sorry Kise. I wish I had known. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wasn't sure what kind of friends we were back then. Besides, I think we were only up to one or two pages, so it would have been a waste of space to include that stuff in the letter."

"Don't say that." Kiyoshi squeezed Kise. "I can't do anything about that now, but you need to know that nothing is ever too trivial to tell me. Even if you're just venting and don't really need help with whatever it is, I'll listen. Okay?"

"Okay." Kise rubbed his head against Kiyoshi's jaw like an appreciative cat. "Thanks."

"Heh."

"So, I didn't end it. I told him that I wouldn't leave him because of that. I loved him. Things evened out at first, but even though he hadn't reached the point of being legally blind, he had to stop flying. That's all he's ever done, so he sank into depression. Then he started getting physical. He didn't hit me, but he'd grip me up, hold onto my arm tighter that necessary...stuff like that. He never wanted to go out anymore, so when I did, he'd accuse me of cheating. He mastered pulling an argument out of thin air. But once he started drinking ore, I knew it was time to end it. Then, one day, I was left with no choice--I came home from a two-week job and found him in my bed with some woman."

"The first mattress?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Kise snorted. "So that was the final straw. I still don't know what that was all about. He wasn't even bi."

"Wait... 'your bed'? You didn't live together?"

"No. He lives across the hall."

"'Lives'? As in still?"

"Hn."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, but he never leaves his place anymore, so I never see him."

Kiyoshi had half a mind to kick down the guys's door and... Well, he wasn't quite sure, but he knew someone would be in a lot of pain afterwards and it wasn't going to be him.

Sensing the tension in Kiyoshi's frame, Kise patted the arm that was still wrapped around him. "I appreciate you being upset on my behalf, but don't waste your energy. It's old news." Kiyoshi nudged at his neck, so Kise tilted his head a bit so that Kiyoshi could burrow into it a little more. "In conclusion... He got really fond of grabbing my arm in the same way that you did and I was caught off guard by it."

"Sorry."

"Me too."

Kiyoshi started to speak but was interrupted by Kise's stomach growling. He looked on amused as Kise covered his face and laughed into his hands. "I guess I should feed you."


End file.
